A New Beginning
by devane
Summary: During their separation, Henry shares Katharine's bed to "keep up appearances." This causes stress to him, his wife, and to his would-be-lover, Anne. What if the King and Queen came together again? Would they have a chance at a new beginning?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.**

**Author's Note: I've had this idea in my mind for several weeks now and I decided to begin to write it down. Katharine of Aragon's story has long fascinated me. She was my favorite character on **_**The Tudors**_**, marvelously portrayed by Maria Doyle Kennedy. However, as a KOA fan, I was disappointed that the show didn't show much of the happier times of Katharine and Henry. Those two did love each other. As Showtime's **_**The Tudors**_** has done, I will be adjusting certain timelines to fit the story. For instance, in my story, Henry and Katharine are only four years apart in age, not six. I will try to make a note of timeline changes when it is important. I hope you enjoy this and I will appreciate any reviews that I receive.**

**Dedicated to: Ladyjaxs who did me the favor of reading the first draft of this chapter and encouraged me to post. Many thanks to her as well for the title.**

_Did I disappoint you  
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth  
You act like you never had love  
And you want me to go without  
Well it's too late tonight  
To drag the past out into the light—"One" by U2_

_"What do you think is going to happen?" the King had asked of Lady Anne Boleyn hours earlier, in his study._

_"What usually happens," had been her reply._

At the time, Henry had laughed. He promised his love that it was nonsensical to think of him and Katharine together, like that. They hadn't had conjugal visits in well… obviously Henry couldn't remember, it had been that long! So the notion was rather absurd.

Nearly as absurd was the fact that he, King Henry VIII of England had to visit Queen Katharine in her bedchambers and sleep—but nothing else, of course—with her! And all because she could use that against him at court. When had Katharine become so cruel that she would taunt him so? Was it not torturous enough that Anne would constantly resist his advances to consummate their love? Was it not torturous that he was still in this "marriage" to appease...whom, exactly? The Pope and Rome? Henry had little use for them. The Emperor? At one time, Charles had been an ally to Henry, but no longer. Not only had Charles rejected the betrothal to Henry's daughter, the Princess Mary, in order to marry another, but the fact that Henry was trying to divorce the Emperor's "beloved" aunt did not leave him in good graces of the Emperor.

The King was quite unhappy. There was unrest everywhere. In his Kingdom, and in his own bed.

That night when he joined her in bed, after her ladies departed, Henry let out an exasperated sigh and glared at the woman who was causing all of this turmoil. If only she'd relented when he generously offered to have her join a nunnery. Why did she refuse his goodness? She should be so happy to live the rest of her days in a convent. And Katharine prided herself on being such a pious woman so it should have been settled.

But she refused. So this left them, it left the King at a crossroads. Sometimes he truly felt that he hated this woman, his wife, the Queen of England, the former Infanta of Spain, the mother of his only living child.

Katharine could feel her husband's anger emanating from within. He truly thought that she was torturing him, on purpose. But that was not the case. Did he not know how torturous it was for _her_ to have him in her bedchambers—nay in her bed—knowing how much he hated it and hated her? Did he not know how much it hurt her that he wanted to cast her aside for a younger, more beautiful, and likely more fertile woman? A woman who was a commoner. Did he not know that he was hurting their daughter, the one whom he had declared "the greatest pearl in the entire kingdom" because he wanted to make her illegitimate so any children he would have with that…Anne Boleyn would take succession over her, when Mary's rightful place was first in line, to be the eventual Queen of England?

Katharine was no happier than her husband was. Sometimes she wished she could hate him. It would make things ever so much easier.

Henry fidgeted in the Queen's bed, restless. She was driving him mad.

"Husband," she began softly and he sighed again.

"What is it, Katharine?"

Shaking her head, she decided to keep her comments to herself. If Henry wanted to be miserable, let him.

"I asked you what is it," he reminded her when she didn't reply.

"Never mind," she said quietly and turned her back to the other side of her bed.

How _dare_ she turn her back at me, he fumed! The King of England! How dare she refuse to answer him!

"I am your King, woman, never forget."

Never forget, as if she ever could or would.

Not wanting to antagonize him further, she turned back to face him.

"Your Majesty," she said softly but firmly.

"Katharine, this is wrong."

"What is, your Majesty?" she asked, confused.

"This," he said, waving his hand around the room. "You and I. We are wrong. Our marriage is over and once you face that we can move on. The fact of the matter is we never had a true marriage to begin with. It was incestuous."

"Henry," she said softly, her accent lilting. "We are husband and wife. We were married in front of God."

"We are an abomination to God!"

Gasping, she couldn't believe he'd say such a thing. "Husband, please."

"I am not your husband but merely your brother-in-law." Henry's words were so cold, but Katharine didn't flinch.

"I never knew your brother, Prince Arthur, and you know that!" Katharine's voice rose, which raised Henry's ire even more. "I was clean and pure when we wed, just as I was when I came to England at fifteen. You were the only man I have ever been with."

"All right so you were a fucking virgin! So what, that's not the point!"

"'Henry," she began, placing a hand on his arm. "Do you not remember when we first met? I was 15 and you were 11. I couldn't speak any English and we conversed in Latin."

Henry remembered it well. He was so fascinated by the Infanta. And he was jealous of his brother, that Arthur was the firstborn and the one getting married to the Spanish Princess, not him! It wasn't fair, that he was second-born male. He was intrigued by her beauty and her mannerisms. She was so new to him, as were her customs. She was shy and sweet. And beautiful. He remembered the day he "gave her away," walking her down the aisle to be married to his brother, the sickly Arthur.

Shaking himself out of his memory, Henry lifted her hand off his arm and said, "That was a long time ago. Before you married my brother and before we were illegally married. Before you lost our children!"

Katharine let out a choke. How dare he blame her, again, for the loss of their children! It was no more her fault than it was his that they didn't survive.

"We have a child, Henry. Our daughter Mary, or have you forgotten?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten about the Princess Mary. She is the pearl of my world. But she is illegitimate. Just as Henry Fitzroy was."

Katharine was fuming inside but she did her best to control her emotions. "How dare you compare our daughter to your bastard!"

"It is the truth, woman. One you'd better accept and one she will have to accept once the Court rules in my favor."

"I cannot believe that the man I married, the man I love with all my heart could be so cruel towards his own daughter and to his wife who has done nothing but aim to please him in every way possible."

"Please me?" Henry gave her an incredulous look.

"Yes, please you."

"You haven't given me pleasure in years, woman!"

"And whose fault is it, husband? Many times have I asked you to come join me in my bedchambers and you never come. Instead you visit the rooms of my ladies-in-waiting, the harlots. I have never been anything but faithful to you in this relationship, nay in life, and you cannot say the same."

Snarling, Henry threw back the covers and put his hand on Katharine's wrist. "You once told me that your father was not faithful to your mother, Queen Isabella. So do not act high and mighty as if this is a surprise to you, what Kings do!"

Katharine was displeased that her husband chose to invoke her dear mother's name. He was right about her father's unfaithfulness, but that didn't make it hurt less. To know what her father did to her mother and that she suffers the same fate.

"Your Majesty, I am well-aware the behavior of Kings."

Katharine was every bit as defiant as Henry. Truthfully, Henry admired that about his wife. It maddened him, but it also meant that she was strong and not some weak-willed wilting flower.

"Then you would best to remember that and not question it. I may be your husband—in name only—but I am always your King."

Katharine knew that if she tried to disagree, they would get into a bigger fight and she did not have the tolerance to do so. It was late and she was tired so she merely nodded and then said, "Good night, your Majesty."

Henry didn't respond, instead he simply crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, willing this night to be over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers for taking the time to offer some kind words about this story. I really appreciate them! I am so glad that people are interested in a story involving Katharine and Henry. Thanks again to ladyjaxs for some of her ideas, hope you like how they evolved in this chapter!**

Neither Henry nor Katharine had been able to enjoy their sleep the previous night. Henry was tossing and turning in her bed and muttering like a petulant child and not as a King. Whereas in the past when her husband was restless and she would try to calm him, the Queen didn't touch him, didn't whisper soothing words in his ears. Instead she remained silent in that big, dark room, listening to the sound of her own chest rise and fall.

Having slept very little, Henry Tudor was a cranky king the following day. Everyone scurried away from him as he yelled at them for no reason. Even his closest friends, Anthony Knivert and Charles Brandon noticed his attitude and did their best to appease him when he came round. Charles suggested that they play a game of tennis to release some of his tension. This proved to be a good idea as the King had a lot of tension inside of him: tension from lack of progression in his "Great Matter," tension from lack of (sexual) progression of his relationship with Anne, tension from dealings with Cardinal Wolsey and dealing with matters of his Kingdom. So Henry played multiple tennis matches—first with Anthony and then with Charles—and to his relief, he beat them both. Of course he did not realize that his best friends allowed him to beat them. They knew that in the mood he was in, the King would be very unpleased to lose.

After beating first Anthony and then Charles, the King was in a slightly better countenance. Sweat glistened on his skin and when he turned to the sidelines where people had been watching the games, he was pleased to find that he had several admirers glancing his way (or attempting to glance his way as some of them were rather coy). He smiled and nodded to them. Henry always loved to be a show-off in front of his people, especially those of the female persuasion.

When he strode off the tennis court with his friends on his heels, Henry immediately went to a table where various fruits, cheeses, and breads sat and he picked up an apple and chomped into it, the juice dripping onto his chin. He then picked up a goblet of wine and raised it into the air.

"What are we toasting, your Majesty?" the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon, wondered.

"Your Grace, we are toasting a successful afternoon of tennis-playing. Successful for me and not for you two!" And with that note, he laughed boisterously as his friends eyed each other, knowing they did the right thing by not playing to the best of their abilities.

"To the King!" Knivert stated, lifting his own goblet in the air.

"The King!" Brandon said in accord.

"It's been too long since we've played tennis or even jousted, we must do this more often," mused the King and his friends nodded in agreement.

"You are feeling good?" Charles decided to question.

Henry gave him a curious look. "What do you mean? I am not tired from the game but you and Knivert here, I heard your labored breath while we played. You need to get in better shape."

"It's of no importance. I am glad to see you in good spirits, your Majesty."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Henry wondered, beginning to feel annoyed.

"You wouldn't, your Majesty," the quieter Anthony piped in.

Henry ignored him and turned his attention back to the Duke. "Obviously your Grace disagrees."

"That is not so. I just thought that perhaps the game was well-suited to release some tension."

Charles hoped that he hadn't overstepped. "Ahh, you know me too well, Charles. Yes, I was tense."

Inwardly, Charles let out a sigh of relief.

"Is there anything your Majesty desires from us?"

Shaking his head, Henry replied, "Not unless you can resolve my Great Matter."

"No, I wish that I could," Charles assured him, although he didn't wholly agree with what he just said.

Of course, Henry was his best friend and he had been more than generous with him for as long as he could remember and even after marrying Henry's sister, the Princess Mary Tudor, Charles had somehow found way back into the King's good graces. So whatever the King would ask of him, of course he would obey. But a part of him wished that Henry would forget his "Great Matter" and remain married to the Queen. Charles admired Katharine, had long done so. And she had been so accepting of his marriage to her sister-in-law and had urged Henry to accept them as well. It was a shame that she had never given Henry what he most desired—a son or better yet sons, to be the heir of the Tudor throne. As it was, the only living child of Queen Katharine and King Henry was a daughter, the Princess Mary, named after Henry's sister, Charles' wife.

Charles would never voice these thoughts to his friend. The King would likely banish him to the tower and cut off his head if he suggested such madness (in the King's mind) of staying with Katharine, foregoing any male issue and having their daughter be the future Queen of England.

"Charles," Anthony whispered softly. "The King is addressing you."

"I apologize, your Majesty."

"I wonder who you were daydreaming about. No, do not tell me because if it is my sister…"

Charles let out a guffaw. "And who are you daydreaming about these days? A certain Lady Anne Boleyn?" Charles teased his friend, even though it pained him to say the word _Lady_, in reference to that Anne Boleyn. Though his attitude said otherwise, Charles had no use for the Boleyns. All they were interested in was power. And they used any means to get that, including two daughters of Sir Thomas Boleyn.

Henry let out a sigh. He daydreamed, quite often of his Lady. But that was all he had lately. "Is something wrong, your Majesty?"

"The Lady Anne is prolonging our liaisons until we are to be married."

Considering her sister Mary was known as the "Great Whore of England" in large part for sleeping with the King, both Knivert and Brandon found it hard to believe that Anne was not giving in to Henry's sexual demands.

"There are many ladies that would love a night with his majesty," teased Brandon.

Henry gave a sly smile. That was the truth, he could have any woman that he wanted, and yet the one he wanted more than any others at the moment, he could not have. Damn her! And damn the Queen, for putting him in such a situation!

Knowing that he was likely going too far, Charles pressed further. "You are sharing a bed with Her Majesty."

Henry whipped his head around to look at the Duke in the eyes. "We are sharing a bed in name only, Brandon."

"Yes you are right now, but couldn't that change? Do you not find the Queen attractive anymore?" It was something he was secretly curious about.

Anthony's eyes widened, not believing that Charles had the audacity to ask such a question! Though he too, wondered the answer.

"That is not the point, Charles. We are married in name only. It would be a sin for us to lie together again."

"Ahh, but what sin would a trip to Spain be?"

Henry remembered how Charles had teased him so many years ago, when he was first betrothed to the Infanta. Charles had told him that Spanish women were wild in bed. Henry had yelled at him, unable to picture his sweet Infanta as anything other than demure. But Charles had been right as had he. Katharine could be wild and she could also be gentle.

"'Tis a sin when she is the widow of my dear departed brother, Prince Arthur."

"She and Arthur were married for mere months. He was so sick."

Henry knew that, but to admit that he believed that Katharine was a true virgin when they wed, well that would do no good for his Great Matter.

"She is still beautiful, your Majesty. And I am not the only one who thinks so. The Queen has her admirers."

Henry glared at his friend. He may want to divorce Katharine, but she was still his wife, the mother of his child, and the Queen of England. For the duke to admire her, well that would not be suffered!

Katharine was less cranky than her husband. She was used to not sleeping well. It had taken her a long time to get used to sleeping without him and then once he rejoined her, well that was something she was unused to as well so she once again had to relearn her nightly routine.

She spent her morning in her beloved chapel, praying to the Good Lord for her matter, for her daughter, and for her husband, especially for his soul. She prayed as always for the people of England, most especially those who were poor, whom she gave alms to.

In the afternoon, Katharine had a long discussion with Ambassador Mendoza, Ambassador to her nephew, the Emperor. They spoke mainly in Spanish so that her English ladies-in-waiting, whom she knew many were spies for that despicable Cardinal Wolsey, would not understand and share what she spoke of.

When Mendoza departed, one of her ladies told her that Sir Thomas More was waiting to see her, and she gladly told her lady to let him in.

When Sir Thomas arrived, he walked towards her with a smile and gave a nod and bow to Her Majesty before taking her hand which she had outstretched and he placed a kiss on it.

"Sir Thomas," she greeted him with affection in her voice.

"Your Majesty. Blessed Lady," he offered with a smile and she nodded at him.

"Sir Thomas, thank you for coming."

"Of course, your Majesty. It is my pleasure. What may I help you with?"

Sighing, Katharine spoke softly, "It is about the King's Great Matter, our divorce trial. Have you heard any news?" she asked, almost dreading for a report. But she knew Sir Thomas to be the most honorable, truthful, trustworthy man, so whatever he would tell her, she would accept.

"Your Majesty, as you know, the King is hoping for a swift victory, but the process has been put on hold through the New Year."

"The new year. And after that, I may no longer be Queen of England," she said, giving a far-off look.

It pained Sir Thomas to see the Queen in such a mood.

"Gentle Lady, Your Highness, you must know that I am—and will continue to—doing everything that I can to support you."

"Of course, Sir Thomas. I appreciate it more than I can ever tell you." She gave him a soft, kind smile.

"And Bishop Fisher, he is in your corner."

"I know the dear Bishop has been a wonderful source of support."

"And Mendoza, he is helping with your nephew."

"He is. Though he is afraid that my 'usband will send him back to Spain. But a part of him wishes to be there, because he cannot abide by what is happening in England."

The Queen and Thomas both were silent for a few moments, each thinking of the change that was occurring in the country, with the threat of Reformation. As devout Catholics, neither of them condoned the actions of those involved in the Reformation. It pained Katharine to no end that her husband threatened to cut himself—and England—off from The Church if he did not get his way in Court. That must not happen.

"I would be sorry to see Mendoza go," mused Thomas.

"Yes. But he tells me that if he does leave, in his stead will be a Eustace Chapuys who I am told is a very honorable man and he is quite close with my nephew, the Emperor."

"You have many who support you, your Majesty."

"Yes, Sir Thomas."

The King had arrived and asked one of the Queen's where she was and was told that she was visiting Sir Thomas More. Henry wondered what his dear friend, Sir Thomas, wanted with his wife. He hoped that Sir Thomas could convince her to join a nunnery and give Henry his divorce.

"Madam, do not despair. For you shall always be our Queen of Hearts," Thomas said, rising from the chair he had sat down in. He walked over to the Queen who was sitting opposite him and he took her hand again and kissed it.

Katharine gave Thomas a warm smile. "Sir Thomas, thank you."

"Your Majesty." He bowed and left the room, not noticing that the King was behind the door, watching the scene unfold, words from Charles running through his mind at the moment: _She is still beautiful, your Majesty. And I am not the only one who thinks so. The Queen has her admirers._

After watching the two of them, the tenderness that they shared, Henry had to wonder if Sir Thomas More was one of those admirers of his wife, the Queen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I cannot tell you how much it tickles me that people are happy to find a Henry/Katharine fic! Thank you so much for the reviews! I will try to respond to them individually in the future, I apologize for not having done so in the past. I really appreciate all the comments and the encouragement. SpiritedEstel, I hope the scene transitions are a little easier to follow in this one!**

"Why are you doing this, Henry?" Anne Boleyn asked him with a glint in her eyes.

Henry let out a deep sigh. How many times was he to explain this to this woman?

"I told you before, I need to keep up the appearances of a marriage with Katharine…" his voice trailed off as he looked at her and saw her anger.

Lady Anne Boleyn did the most undignified thing: she actually snorted. "Oh Henry, who is going to believe those 'appearances' you speak of? Everybody knows that you and Katharine haven't shared bedchambers in years," she informed him, her voice snarling as she said the name "Katharine." The name that she shouldn't speak because Katharine was still the Queen and she owed her that respect, but Anne had no respect for the woman who was keeping her from what her family and even what she wanted: to be the next wife of Henry VIII, the next Queen of England.

"Who told you such things?" the King demanded.

"Everybody knows, Henry. Do you think her ladies don't notice that you don't come to their lady's bedchambers? As if that wasn't enough, when was the last time she was with child? When she was pregnant with Mary?"

That was not true. Katharine had been pregnant once more after Mary, but the child, another girl, didn't survive. Even so, that did not mean that the King and Queen had no further relations, they had.

"And how many women have you been with since? The woman who gave you a bastard son, Bessie Blount, my sister Mary, and there were others. I've heard the talking."

"And you believe everything you hear, do you woman?" Pacing the room, Henry drew closer to Anne and glared at her. She knew she was pressing things with him and it might backfire, but at that moment, she cared not. She was tired of waiting to be with him. Maybe if she reminded him of the truths of his life with his wife, he would hasten the dissolution of his current marriage.

"Of course not. But Henry, do not deny that you've been with other women. Katharine knows."

"The Queen is a daughter of royalty," Henry reminded her, implying that Katharine long knew the way of Kings.

"Yes, I know all about who she's a daughter of. Spaniards," the word rolled off her tongue with distaste. Anne Boleyn had no use for Spaniards, even though her Queen was one. Maybe because she was one. She knew how distrusting they were of the French and that was one thing she intended to convince Henry when they married--to strengthen England's alliance with France even if it put them against Katharine's precious nephew, the Emperor.

"My daughter is part Spaniard," he voiced the threat.

"She is a bastard," Anne stated simply and Henry's eyes darkened.

"You would be wise not to continue this line of thought, Lady Anne."

Anne knew she was treading a fine line. She knew the King loved his daughter Mary very much--so much so that he gave her the title of Princess of Wales, a title (which was normally bestowed upon the first-born male child. So if she were to continue her thoughts on that child (which were to strip her of her title as Princess and cast her off to some dreary home far away from the King), this might enrage Henry. And she didn't want that, because if he was mad with her, well that just wouldn't do. But another part of her was tired of having to worry about Katharine's child.

"Let's not talk about Katharine's child but about the children we will have when we are married. Oh Henry, just think of the beautiful boys I shall bear you," Anne said, her voice taking a softer tone.

"We shall," he replied, though his tone was less enthusiastic than in the past.

"The sooner we are married, the sooner I shall bear you sons," she promised.

Henry stared at her, having a vague hope of a future with sons to succeed him and carry on the Tudor name. That was his dearest wish that he were to father sons.

"Once my divorce is through, Lady Anne, we shall be wed and have many children," Henry said.

"I wish the Courts didn't postpone notice on your Matter until after the New Year. Nothing will change between then and now, why must we wait?" the "Lady" was not cognizant that she ought to be more careful with letting her whining loose.

Anne was impatient. Henry was as well. Did she not know how much this troubled him?

"Let us not dwell on that, my love. We have better things to think of."

"Our future?" she asked and he responded with a nod.

"So you will not share Katharine's bed again, Henry?" Anne's face was hopeful but Henry's was blank, belying his internal anger.

"If everyone knows, including Katharine, there are no appearances to be kept up," she pointed out.

"Do not tell me how to conduct my marriage or anything else!" he yelled, completely frustrated with her lack of regard for his authority.

The searing look he gave her left her shuddering inside. "Yes, your majesty," she said with a nod.

"We are done. Good day, Madam," he informed her, waving her out of the room.

Anne left with a tremble in her step. Had she pushed him too far?

******

Henry was in a foul mood after his argument with Anne. He did not need that woman—or anyone else—to tell him what to do. He was the King of England for fuck's sake! Nobody told him what to do. Except they did and that was the point. Wolsey, Anne, and others, they tried to tell him what to do and Henry hated that.

He always had. Ever since he was a mere child, when his older brother, Prince Arthur had asked him to do something, he would pout and make noises, not understanding why he had to listen to his brother. Yes, Arthur was his brother and he was the elder son, but he was so sick and so weak and so not fun. This was partly why Henry had latched onto the friendship with the older Charles Brandon. Charles was fun.

The day that Henry met Catalina of Aragon, his soon-to-be sister-in-law, Henry was immediately taken by her. She was so beautiful and she didn't seem aware of it. She seemed so shy but so very sweet, even though she didn't know his language. Henry wanted to teach her how to speak so they could converse about everything—anything—but in the meantime they spoke Latin together. However, hopes he had of a deep friendship with Catalina was hindered by the fact that she was about to marry his brother and then shortly thereafter they would be sent to Ludlow Castle in the Welsh Marches. It wasn't fair! If he were the firstborn male and the heir to the throne, it would be he that would be marrying the Infanta, not Arthur. And Henry knew that he'd make a more majestic King than his brother could ever hope to be. And a better husband! But Henry had no choice than to walk Catalina down the aisle and "give her away" to his brother.

When his brother died and Henry's life changed from being the future Archbishop of Canterbury to the future King of England, Henry had to put thoughts away about his sister-in-law. Who was now a widow. And yet his father then agreed with her father to betroth Henry and Katharine (as was her settled English name), and suddenly Henry saw a future with this woman, a future where they would rule over England and have many children.

Part of that future Henry saw came true, except the part of the children.

Sighing, Henry had to shake himself from the memories of time long gone. There was no use in dwelling on things like that. He needed to concentrate on his future. And his future was with Anne Boleyn. That is if he didn't snap her disrespecting neck off first!

*******

Katharine was in the dining room in her apartments, just having been seated for a solitary dinner, with only her servants in attendance. Katharine wasn't unaccustomed to eating alone. In fact, it happened more and more the past year or longer as Henry's attention to her waned and moved along elsewhere, such as to that wretched Anne Boleyn.

Although she was used to the solitude, sometimes Katharine longed for the company of her old friends from her home. Her first home, her beautiful Spain. Oh how she missed them. She had but a few Spanish ladies now as most of her ladies were English.

Katharine gave a nod to the server who was about to fill her goblet with wine when one of her ladies not in attendance in the dining room came rushing in.

"Your Majesty!" she said breathless.

"What is it, Elizabeth?"

"His Majesty the King requests to have dinner with Her Majesty!" Elizabeth's words, spoken with such surprising joy, completely caught the Queen off-guard.

Her eyes widened slightly and then she remembered where she was and she gave a small nod to Elizabeth who rushed back to the door and then spoke to the King.

Katharine began to stand up from her seat, but Henry told her not to, so she sat back and gave him a nod, "Your Majesty."

"Katharine," Henry said, his voice much lighter than it had been in longer than the Queen could recall.

Servants gave them both wine and placed their food on the table and then they stood in silence as always though they were inwardly wondering how dinner between the King and Queen would go. It had been months since they last dined together just the two of them (engaging in other dignitaries or notables or even family members was different).

"How is your health, Husband?" Katharine asked watching Henry pluck a piece of meat between his fingers.

"It is well," he responded between bites. "And you are healthy?" he asked her.

"Yes."

The truth was, they knew how each other was doing because they slept in the same bed. So they would know if the other were ill. But it was the pleasantries that must be shared over the dinner table.

"Good," Henry told her, genuinely meaning it.

She gave him a slightly surprised look and then relaxed against her chair as she slowly chewed her meat.

"Any news of our daughter?" Henry asked a few moments later after companionable silence.

Katharine could not stop the smile from forming at the curve of her lips when she thought of her daughter.

"Yes, I have heard from Lady Salisbury. Princess Mary is growing well. Her health is better than it has been in a long time."

The King was grateful that his only living child was in better health.

"Lady Salisbury says that our daughter is surpassing the expectations of everyone with her studies. She has mastered her languages and her history. Mary is also an expert musician and a fine dancer. She is a joy to behold, Salisbury writes."

Henry gave a smile. He did love his daughter and he was proud of her.

"Henry, I would like for Sir Thomas More to visit our daughter and give her lessons."

Sir Thomas More? Henry narrowed his eyes, recalling how close the two seemed the other day.

"He could teach her many things. Do you not agree?"

Henry stared at his wife, trying to gauge her manner to see if it would betray feelings for his dear, _trusted_ friend. At the moment, he found none. So he agreed with her. "I will speak to Sir Thomas and ask him to visit Princess Mary as a special tutor."

"Thank you, husband," she said pleased.

Nodding, they ate for a few more moments before Katharine spoke up again.

"Lady Salisbury also says that our Princess is a true testament to her parents. Are you not proud of her, Henry?"

Nodding, he softly said, "I am."

"Would it not please you to send her to Court so that she can sing and dance for you and play one of her tunes? I am sure you would be pleased by her."

"I…" Henry faltered. If truth were told, the King would enjoy a visit from his daughter. It had been too long since he'd last seen her. But if he wanted to punish his wife, denying her access to their daughter was the best way he knew. Still, Henry knew how much Katharine loved and doted on Princess Mary. He never knew such an affectionate mother—Queen—before Katharine.

Katharine held her breath as she watched her husband, sensing that he was torn between having their daughter come to Court for a visit, something she truly believed he would like, and with wanting to hurt her. This hurt her, but she didn't let it show.

"The holidays are coming up, Henry, wouldn't you want your daughter here to share in the festivities?"

"Yes, of course, Katharine. Mary may come to Court for the holidays." The words came out before Henry realized what he was saying.

"Oh husband, you make me so happy," Katharine said, giving him a genuine smile.

Henry took a gulp of wine as he nodded at her and gave her a small smile. When was the last time he had seen his wife so happy? He didn't recall. And yet, it was so easy to make her happy. If only Anne were that easy to make happy…Anne. She would not be pleased by the news of Princess Mary's arrival to Court. Well, she would have to keep her opinions to herself because Mary was still a Princess and it was expected that the children of royalty spent time with their parents for the holidays.

The rest of dinner went well. The King found that he could enjoy speaking with the Queen and eating with her. That night, when they met in her bed, Katharine turned to Henry and gave him a fond smile. "Thank you, Henry."

He didn't have to ask the cause of her gratitude. He knew it was because he was allowing their daughter to come home. "You're welcome, wife," he said, waiting to see if she would turn her back on him like she had in the past but she did not. Instead she moved closer to him, hesitating at first until she realized he wasn't pushing her away.

It was a small gesture, but Henry awkwardly brushed a tendril hair off his wife's face and then he closed his eyes and went to sleep, sleeping soundly for the first time in a very long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I apologize for the lack of updates with this story. First of all, I was in 4****th**** quarter crunch at work (which is always a crazy time) and then I've been dealing with my mom's recent diagnosis of Colon Cancer, so needless to say, I've been distracted. But today the mood struck me and I couldn't stop writing. It's a long one so hopefully that makes up a bit for the delay. Thank you so much for your reviews of this story and to those who don't review but just read, thank you!**

**********

**A New Beginning—Chapter 4**

The next day, Henry awoke with a start to find himself entangled in the Queen's arms. Blurry-eyed, he blinked rapidly, trying to ascertain how that had happened. They were both still dressed in their nighttime attire, so nothing had happened, but somehow during the night, they became entwined, like they were wont to do in the past. It had been a long time since they had felt comfortable to be in an intimate position. Although he wondered how this came to pass, Henry felt comfortable in his wife's arms and that was a very disconcerting thought. Watching his wife's features while she slumbered, he was caught by how peaceful she looked and how beautiful. The King could not recall the last time he was struck by her beauty, but here in her natural state, he saw it.

When he was a boy of but eleven years old, Henry met the Infanta of Spain, also known as Catalina, just prior to her marriage to his elder brother, Prince Arthur. At the time, he was also struck by her beauty. What made her more beautiful was the fact that she held no airs about her or her appearance. She didn't realize how beautiful she was, thinking her maids-of-honor were more physically desirable. However, she was wrong. The day of her wedding to Arthur, she wore a gown of gorgeous silk from her home country and wore a mantilla on her head as was custom in Spain. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that would be untoward, so he kept that to himself. Henry had the duty, nay the privilege of escorting his soon-to-be sister-in-law down the aisle at St. Paul's Cathedral in London. Everyone's eyes were on the bride and her bridegroom, including young Prince Henry. Henry had never been more envious of his brother than when Arthur took Catalina as his bride. Nevertheless, Henry had no choice except to accept her into his family. He was the second son and he was to be the future Archbishop of Canterbury. Catalina was now called Katharine and was to be treated as another sister.

For two weeks following the wedding, there were pageants and jousts and dances in honor of the Prince of Wales and his new Princess. Henry attended them along with his sisters—Princesses Margaret and Mary—and other members of the royal family, as well as his parents, Queen Elizabeth and King Henry VII. Henry loved such lavish events! He really was in his element, especially when participating in sport or dance. He loved to show-off his skills. However, it wasn't just to show-off, Henry genuinely excelled at sport and dance, much more so than his brother who had always been so sickly and typically watched from the sidelines, even in this, his marriage celebration. Therefore, the attention was upon Henry, and upon the shy new Princess. While most of the pageantry was in her honor, Katharine was allowed to participate in dances, which she reveled in. She was a very good dancer, having been taught at an early age. She impressed many of the English people, enchanting them with her Spanish style. One of those whom she impressed was her new brother, who very much wanted her to be his dance partner, but that was not allowed. Instead he watched her dance with her ladies-of-honor and a few dances with her new husband. Prince Henry danced with both of his sisters, enticing many smiles and laughs from the royals, Katharine included. Her laugh was as beautiful as she was.

Henry had been drawn to Katharine for so many reasons. Yet in present time, they were so far apart. The King was reluctant to indulge himself in many memories of the past because he felt there was a time and place for them—in the past. He was more concerned about the present and ever concerned with the future. The future of his Kingdom, of his Legend, of his family was foremost in the King's mind. He must not get caught up in memories of days long past. He must remember his mission: to divorce Katharine, marry Anne, and have many sons to continue on the Tudor Dynasty. For much of the time, this task was always on his mind. However, there were times when a memory would flash upon his mind, a memory of his childhood or a memory of his teen years or even his twenties when he was a new king with such a bright future ahead of him. He had been so happy with Katharine and for so long. Nevertheless, she had been unable to fulfill her duty: she had not given him an heir to the throne. Their lone living child was a daughter. He must remember that when sentiment hit him. Anne Boleyn was his future. Catalina of Aragon was his past and must remain so.

With one last look towards his wife, Henry rose from her bed and called upon his men to bring him to his bedchambers and dress him. It was not inappropriate for him to change in his wife's bedchambers; however, if word got wind to his fiancée, then he would have to deal with an unhappy Anne yet again. He was growing tired of her unhappiness, of her impatience. A small voice reverberated in his head, reminding him of the woman who waited so many years to marry him, while living a life of poverty. Pushing aside those thoughts, Henry instead chose to think of a talk he needed to have with Cardinal Wolsey about his Great Matter.

********

Katharine awoke a half an hour later to an empty bed. If she was disappointed, it did not show on her face. For if her husband had still been in her bed, she would have been surprised. The fact that he was in her bed at all was surprising in some ways yet in others it wasn't because of course Henry wanted to show that he was making an effort. It was all for show, and Katharine knew it. Still, last night something seemed to change between them. The King seemed to enjoy the Queen's company while they dined together. Moreover, she could hardly believe that he agreed to have Sir Thomas More tutor their daughter. It was not that she believed that Princess Mary's education was of no consequence of the King—no, Henry wanted his daughter to have the best education and to be as smart as any other children in the Kingdom, nay smarter than them. Their daughter was proving to be so. What surprised Katharine was that Henry did not object to her request. She had become accustomed to his refusal of any of her wishes. It was a pleasant change of pace for Henry to agree. Perhaps he agreed because of his affection for Sir Thomas and his affection for Princess Mary. Whatever the reason, Katharine was pleased. Yet she was never more pleased than when her husband granted her biggest wish—allowing their daughter to return to Court for the holidays. Oh how she missed her dear daughter! She was sure that Mary had grown physically and in other ways, since they were last together and she was anxious to discover those ways. She knew that even if her husband were to deny it, he too had missed their daughter. Princess Mary would bring such joy to the Castle!

Katharine went about her day as she usually did, remembering that she had guests to receive in the afternoon. Those guests were her family: Henry's sister Mary and Mary's children, Henry, Frances, and Eleanor. Mary's husband, the Duke of Suffolk, would not be joining them. Instead he had business to attend with Henry and other members of the Court. This suited Katharine fine because it allowed her time with people whom she loved dearly, without any interference.

A few hours later she was in one of her living quarters when one of her ladies alerted her that her guests had arrived. She told her lady to let them in and then the foursome came in, bowing and curtseying to Her Majesty.

"Aunt Katharine, Aunt Katharine!" cried Eleanor, the littlest one.

"Hello Dear One," she greeted affectionately, giving the child a kiss on both cheeks, as said child wrapped her arms around her aunt's waist to hug her. Smiling down at her niece, Katharine declared her to be even more grown up than the last time she saw her.

"You are turning into quite a pretty lady, Eleanor. Frances, you are even more beautiful than last time. Come here, dear." Frances did as her aunt desire and greeted her with the same affection that her sister had. The two girls loved their aunt dearly and Katharine felt the same towards them. She wasn't a stuffy Queen whom they had to be in fear of.

Next, Henry walked over to greet his aunt, kissing her on her hand that she held out towards him. "My, what a handsome gentleman you are, Henry."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said with a kind smile to which the Queen reminded him that he was allowed to call her Aunt in her presence. Of course, if other dignitaries were around, they would have followed more traditional customs, but in her apartments, Katharine was afforded the luxury of being more relaxed.

"Aunt Katharine, where is Mary?" Henry asked her moments later, wondering when he would see his cousin whom he was quite fond of, being born only one month after Princess Mary had, and they were particularly close.

"She is still at Ludlow Castle," Henry's mother reminded him and watched as her son's face fell in disappointment.

"Oh, I do miss our cousin," cried little Eleanor and her brother and sister nodded their heads in agreement.

"I must confess that I miss my namesake," admitted Mary to which Katharine came over and patted her hand, after giving her a hug and kiss in welcome.

"As do I. But I have some good news: His Majesty has agreed to allow our daughter to spend the holidays at Court, here at the castle with us." Her smile was so genuine that her guests couldn't help but return it with one of their own.

"I am so happy for you, Katharine," Mary told her softly. She knew how much her dear sister-in-law missed her child. Moreover, she was displeased with her brother for not allowing more frequent visits between mother and daughter. It was not right that he was separating them; Mary couldn't imagine being away from her children for long. While she was a royal herself and knew the royal ways, which royal children were sent to their own castles at a certain age, it did not mean she agreed with it. Besides, she knew her brother and knew he was separating his wife and his daughter to hurt his wife. It was a most unpleasant thought that the older brother she had loved so much as a child had grown into a man that would treat his wife and child that way. All because Mary had dared to be born a daughter and not a son. So now her brother's great plan was to divorce his dutiful, loyal, loving wife, and marry that wicked Anne Boleyn in hopes of having male heirs.

Mary would never express her thoughts to the King, but she wondered what he would do if Anne, like Katharine before her, did not grant him the Princes he so wanted. Would he get rid of her as easily and find wife number three? And so on and so forth until he felt he had as many male heirs as he could use? Perish the thought. If only the King would allow her son, his namesake, Henry Brandon, to be his heir in lieu of a child with another wife. It was unconventional, to be sure, but it was not unheard of. Henry would be a good king, Mary was certain of it. With him as King, that would spare Princess Mary's rights as Princess of Wales; she would not have to be displaced by her father's bastard child, though in part she would by her cousin. Still, Mary had a feeling that her niece would accept her cousin as King, before she would the son of her father and Anne Boleyn. Best of all, it would allow Henry to remain married to Katharine and the Kingdom could go on as it had for so long. Her sister-in-law was a woman she greatly admired as a person, as a family member, and as a queen. She was also the daughter of royalty and should be treated as such, not discarded for a newer, younger woman who may or may not give the King his precious sons.

"Mary, are you all right?" Katharine asked her while watching different emotions running over her sister-in-law's face.

Nodding, Mary composed herself. "I am sorry, my thoughts drifted."

Giving her a small smile, Katharine replied, "I understand. My thoughts drift on occasion as well."

Katharine looked over at the three children who were sitting obediently, talking to each other and she yearned to have more children, so that Mary would have siblings to care for and love. As much as she loved her daughter, it saddened her that she had no other children to dote upon and it saddened her that Mary was an only child. Katharine herself had loved being a sister. Oh how she missed her brother and sisters! Paying particular attention to Henry's interactions with his sisters, the ache grew deeper in her heart. It was hard not to ache when being faced with such a scene, knowing that *her* son Henry would have loved Mary so much, knowing that her Henry was to be the future King Henry IX. Katharine missed her son, all of her children that she lost.

"Katharine?" This time Mary was concerned over the melancholy in the Queen's face.

"I was thinking of the man that young Henry is becoming and for a moment, I thought of what my son Henry would be like now."

"Oh Katharine," Mary said with a tremble.

"I know that it is wrong to think of such things. For who am I to question the plans of the Good Lord? He decided that He wanted Henry."

That was good and well, thought Mary, but it was natural to think of one's losses, even if you were the Queen of England. How her heart ached for her sister. For even though Margaret was her sister by blood, Katharine was her sister by heart so when she was in pain, it pained her as well. Especially if she indulged in memories of a time when she was still a teenager and she had a new nephew. Henry was a beautiful child. Never before had she known that a King and Queen could love another being so much. She was so happy for her brother and his wife, for her family, and for the Kingdom to have the heir everyone wanted. And then, not two months into his young life, he had fallen ill and died. Never before had she seen such devastation, not even when her parents lost her older brother Arthur. Something changed in Henry after he lost his beloved son. Still, she remembered Katharine telling her that Henry had said that they were young and they would have many more sons to come and daughters. Yet reality was that they would suffer several more losses until Mary surprised them all by surviving infancy.

"Do you remember the pilgrimage?" Katharine asked and Mary nodded, remembering quite well how she had been honored to be chosen to go on pilgrimage with the Queen.

"I still held such hope that I might yet become pregnant and deliver the King a male child. That was not to happen. He has not blessed my womb with more fruit. Therefore, Mary remains our one and only child."

"He loves the Princess, I know my brother," Mary told her kindly. The Queen nodded.

"But it is not enough. Oh Mary, I am so grateful that you don't have to deal with such things; it is quite trying. Nevertheless, I have my faith and I know that my marriage to Henry is real and valid. I did not know your brother Arthur," she said, her voice a whisper.

"I know."

"And Mary is the rightful heir to the throne. My mother was a fine Queen in her own right, so shall our daughter."

Mary did not say anything for though she knew all about the great Queen Isabella of Spain, she also knew that England was quite a different country and its people might not be as receptive to a Queen, even a Tudor Queen, to rule its Kingdom.

********

That night, Katharine retired to her bedchambers and wished that she could have some solitude as her thoughts were haunting her and she did not want to have to answer to an inquisitive husband, if he were to notice. Then she recalled that it was unlikely that he would notice or say anything. Therefore, when Henry joined her in bed, she said nothing to him and continued to read a passage in her Bible that brought her comfort.

Katharine was wrong; Henry did notice that his wife was more subdued than usual. She seemed quiet and sad and she didn't even say hello to him, as she usually had. That fact should have irritated him; however it merely heightened his curiosity. Perhaps if he had dined with her, he would have gotten her to speak up. However, he chose to dine with Anne instead, to try to smooth things over with her. She was in a better mood tonight, once again engaging him in discussion about France and how she believed that Henry should once again become Allies with the nation, to create a stronger force to oppose the Roman Emperor, Katharine's nephew. She also sprinkled the conversation with her hopes for their future once they were to be married and have children—many sons, of course she always promised him sons. She had him so convinced that she would immediately become pregnant once they consummated their marriage and she would give him a healthy son within their first year of marriage.

Feeling restless, Katharine moved around in her spacious bed, trying to get comfortable as she re-read her Bible passage. To no avail, she would find no comfort. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she put the Bible on the nightstand next to the bed and closed her eyes, hoping that she would find elusive rest.

Henry was perturbed by her motions and let out a "will you lay down, woman?" Biting the inside of her cheek, Katharine did as commanded.

"What is wrong with you?" he inquired.

Not this again, she thought to herself. If she told him, he would be upset with her. If she remained mute, he would be offended.

"I am just restless," she told him and that was the truth, but it did not satisfy him and he kept prodding at her, but her answers did nothing to quell his thoughts.

Trying a different tactic, Henry surprised Katharine by asking her, "How is my dear younger sister?"

Eyes now open; she responded that Mary was fine. Healthy, beautiful, she was the same spirited sister he'd always adored. This was pleasing to her husband.

"Her children are well as well," she added. "The girls are growing into beautiful young women and Henry is a strong, healthy, handsome, intelligent young man. You would be proud of your namesake."

Nothing more was spoken about the visit, but Henry noted the weariness in Katharine's face when he looked down at her.

"He is a good boy," he stated.

"Yes. He's not troublesome as his father."

In spite of himself, the King laughed. He knew that Katharine liked Charles, but sometimes the Duke of Suffolk could be quite vexing and he was definitely a troublemaker, which they both knew quite well.

Once again Katharine grew quiet and once again Henry wished to know what was going through her mind, though if he bothered to wonder why it bothered him, it would annoy him. For she should be of no concern to him, his brother's widow.

"He misses his cousin and was pleased to hear that you are allowing her to come to Court for the holidays. They are very fond of one another, husband. Being the same age, they share a close bond."

Henry knew this. When they were little, they were as close as siblings. He almost wanted to remind the Queen that Henry Brandon was not Princess Mary's brother though, he was merely her cousin. At that thought, his mind wandered to thoughts of the brother that Mary had never known, their Prince Henry. Why he would be a strapping man right now, due to marry nobility. Alas, that was never to be, just as he was never to take his father's crown as Henry himself had, for his son, the much loved Prince Henry, succumbed to illness before he was two months old.

Henry remembered how joyful the Castle was upon the arrival of the new heir. Everyone in the Kingdom was pleased, but none more than he and his wife. This beautiful creature that he had married—when he could have married any woman but he chose her—she had given him a son! A son which she requested that would bear his father's name and his grandfather's name. The King was never happier. After the loss of their first child, a stillborn daughter, this was quite the boon. And to be born on the first day of the New Year! Surely that was a sign of God's favor. Henry had his Court celebrate his son's birth for weeks with pageants and dances and jousts. He did this all for his son's honor and for the wife he loved more than words could say. Katharine had never looked more beautiful than when she held their boy in her arms. This was what he had endured for all those years after Prince Arthur had died.

Jubilation in the Castle was short-lived, however, upon the death of the Young Prince. It was a devastating loss. A loss which Henry didn't share with others, except on occasion with his wife who was equally devastated. However, he reminded her that these things happened and they would have years to have many more sons and some daughters.

His mind's wanderings were unpleasant and Henry pushed those thoughts to the background. It did no good to reminisce about sadness. Perhaps that is why Katharine is so melancholy, he mused to himself. Seeing his sister's son Henry, perhaps that is what did it. He surprised himself by being touched and so he did something which surprised him and his wife. He leaned down in the bed and pulled her closer to him and held her, while kissing her forehead. She looked at him forlornly and he couldn't bear that look anymore so he kissed her, eliciting a gasp from her mouth which responded to the move, first with gentleness and ease and then with more firmness. Getting caught up in her sweet lips, he couldn't remember when the last time they kissed. Had it really been so long ago? But her lips, they still tasted as sweet as wine. Katharine turned around so she was facing him and she drew his face to hers, caressing him as they kissed. Oh how she had missed this, missed the feel of his hot neck against hers, his strong lips against hers. She had no idea what brought this about, but she would not dare question it. Instead she went with it, kissing him with a passion that had been renewed in her. "Oh Henry," she sighed in his mouth.

The sound of her voice stilled something within him and he pulled apart from her, breathing heavily and staring at her. What had he done?


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry that it's been over a month since I last updated but personal life has gotten in the way. I know that I still owe replies to the reviews of the last chapter—just know that I have read them all and appreciate them. I especially am touched by all the well wishes for my mother. She has completed three rounds of chemo, 9 to go. This chapter is a long one, so I hope that makes up a bit for the delay. I hope this is worth the wait. Enjoy and as always I look forward to your reviews**_._

**********

**A New Beginning—Chapter 5**

_Katharine's bedchambers, Greenwich Palace_

Once again, sleep was elusive to King Henry VIII. After he broke apart from kissing the Queen, Henry backed away from her and made sure not to touch her at all. When he shrank back, he could sense her displeasure, but at that point he didn't care. What's more is he _couldn't_ care. He wasn't _supposed to_ care. Turning his back towards her, he feigned being asleep. Reality was that he couldn't sleep. His mind was in overdrive as were his senses, most particularly his sense of taste. Oh it had been a long time since he had truly tasted his wife's lips and he was reminded of how sweet their nectar was. This thought disconcerted him and he tried to block out any future thoughts of her lips on his. Instead, he tried to focus his mind on Lady Anne and tried to conjure up the feel of her lips on his. She was to be his wife one day, so she was the one he needed to concentrate on, not his brother's widow. He had to remember that that was all Katharine was, his brother's widow. Nevertheless, it was hard to do on occasion, particularly because they were still legally wed (even if he felt their marriage was not "real"), they shared a child, and they ruled over England. Now that they were sharing a bed, it grew harder to distance him from the past when it was right in his face.

If only the woman had agreed to his generous offer of life in a nunnery! That would solve everything. He would allow Mary to remain Princess of Wales, but would make any children he had with Anne his "true" children and the rightful heirs to his throne. Moreover, he would be generous with money towards Katharine and would even compensate her household. As pious a woman as she was, this should be easily agreeable. If they were to divorce amicably, he would offer her friendship and hold her in high esteem because long before they were married, they were friends. Henry admired her strength and her intelligence, so he hoped they could remain friends. All his hopes were for naught as the stubborn woman denied him. Moreover, who was she to deny him, the King of England?! A Queen? Oh but that was through marriage, a marriage that never should have been. To be sure, she had been the _daughter _of a King and Queen, but they had long since died. The mother of his children? No, they had lost their children…except for his pearl, Mary. Oh if only Mary had been born a son, then they never would be at this point. No, he must not dwell on that. He loved Anne now. At least that is what he had convinced himself.

Henry wished that he had someone in whom he could confide in about his troubled mind and spirit. Charles was his best friend, but Charles wasn't the best one to go to for advice on such matters. He didn't care for Anne, Henry knew that and though he wouldn't say so, Charles thought Henry and Katharine were a good match. And the last thing he needed was Charles sharing such things with his wife—Henry's own sister—Mary who would want nothing more than her brother's affections to turn toward his wife and away from Lady Anne. At one point in time, Cardinal Wolsey had been one of Henry's closest confidantes, whether about Church or State or anything, really. These days, however, there was much wariness on Henry's part regarding the Cardinal. The Cardinal who still failed to grant him his divorce. Wolsey no longer held the trust of the King. He could go to Knivert, but it didn't feel right. Oh how the King wished his dear friend Sir William Compton was still alive for he would be the best choice. Sir William was wise about such matters. Even if his own romantic liaisons left much to be desired. Alas, William was lost to them all during the Sweating Sickness. Sighing to himself, Henry mused over the fact that he couldn't confide in anyone really. Without judgment. Except…there was always. Yes, that was it. Sir Thomas! Although he knew how fond Sir Thomas was of the Queen, he would remain as impartial a player as he typically was. He would listen to Henry's dilemma and not judge him. That was what he needed most, an ear, even more so than any advice.

Once he decided upon Sir Thomas, Henry felt at ease. He would speak to Sir Thomas and then it would be out and he would no longer have these issues. It would be a cleansing, if you will.

*****

_A sitting room in Greenwich Palace_

"Sir Thomas More is here to see you, your Majesty," one of Katharine's ladies informed her late that afternoon.

"Send him in, please," Katharine said and she stood up to receive her guest and her dear friend, Sir Thomas More.

Sir Thomas came in and bowed before the Queen. "Your Majesty," he said with a smile as he reached for her extended hand and kissed it in reverence.

"Sir Thomas," greeted Katharine warmly.

"It is good to see you," he told her, even though he had recently seen her, he treasured his time with his dear friend.

"And you as well. Tell me, how are Alice and the children? Is everyone in good health?"

Nodding, Thomas took the seat he was offered. "My wife is doing quite well. And is in good health. She sends her best."

"Please thank her for me," the Queen said kindly.

"I will," he promised. "And the children are doing quite splendidly," he added. "They are growing up, each and every one of them. It's rather extraordinary to witness at times."

The Queen nodded. "I'm sure it is. You are a very lucky man to have four healthy children, Sir Thomas."

Thomas noticed her pensive state and felt bad because he couldn't imagine how hard it must be for her to be separated from her only child.

"I realize that I am. And you seem to be in good health lately?"

"Yes. I haven't fallen ill recently, which is always a blessing."

"That it is, your Majesty. I hear that your sister-in-law visited yesterday? I'm sure you must have enjoyed that, I know how close you are."

Katharine gave him a smile. "Yes, Mary is lovely. She has grown from being the young, pretty little Princess into a beautiful woman, devoted mother and wife. Imagine such happiness with the Duke of Suffolk!" There was a twinkle in her eyes as she said this.

Thomas let out a chuckle. "Yes well stranger things have been known to happen. Charles is a good man, deep down."

"Yes, he is. He's still so devoted to Henry. Caters to his every whim."

Thomas knew this to be true. In William's absence, Charles Brandon was in the closest esteem to the King.

"She brought the children with her. They are such dears. The girls are growing quite loving and Henry's namesake is quite the handsome lad. I'm afraid I grew melancholy for a while, thinking of my own dear Henry."

"Oh sweet woman," Thomas said mournfully as he picked up one of her hands and gently caressed it.

"He would have been King Henry IX. We had so many plans for him. But the Good Lord had his own plans and that is why he is no longer with us."

"It is hard to question the reason why the Lord takes from his dutiful servants, particularly when it's one so young. But I do believe there was a purpose," he said kindly.

"Yes I am certain of that as well. You are a dear man," she told him softly.

Giving her a small smile, he inquired as to why he had been asked to see her. "Has something happened with your case that neither I nor Bishop Fisher have been made aware of? I thought it was put on hold for a few months."

"Oh, it is. And there is nothing new to report on that end. No, I asked you here to ask you a favor."

"A favor?" one eyebrow rose. "Ask me anything and it is yours, your Majesty."

"Thank you but I haven't even asked yet," she gently reminded him.

"I am happy to serve you and the King in whatever capacity you need."

"It is my daughter, Princess Mary."

"Yes?" he asked, still confused.

Taking a sip of tea which had been placed before her by a servant, Katharine explained, "I would like you to tutor the princess. And my husband agreed."

"He did?" Thomas asked in surprise, not knowing that Henry and Katharine had been agreeing on anything lately. This was certainly a new development that the King would concede to the Queen's wishes for their daughter.

Seeing the surprised look on her friend's face, Katharine went on. "I was not anticipating that Henry would agree with me. But I am thankful that he did. It shows that he really does love our daughter and that he's not just using her as a pawn. At least I hope not."

Sir Thomas shook his head at the thought of his former pupil using his child against her mother. It absolutely made him ill at mind.

"He's always doted on Princess Mary," he kindly reminded her and she gave him a small but grateful smile.

"Yes, he has. He knows how important her education is to me and to him. She is doing so well in her studies, I am so proud of her accomplishments. But she still has much to learn and who better to teach her than my dear friend Sir Thomas?"

"I am honored that you thought of me, your Majesty."

"You are a most learned man and your children are well-educated. You were one of Henry's mentors and tutors, it couldn't be more fitting that his daughter learns from your teachings as well."

"It would be my extreme privilege to be able to teach Princess Mary, Your Majesty. If you have any specific teachings in mind, please share with me. Would I be traveling to Ludlow Castle?"

"I am not certain. For Mary is going to return here to Greenwich Palace for the holidays, so perhaps her studies can continue here, under your tutelage."

"I was not aware that she was coming for the holidays. Your majesty must be thrilled. How wonderful for the Palace to have the Princess back in its fold," he said with a smile.

"My 'usband agreed that Mary should spend the holidays with her parents. I yearn to see her and soon she shall be here and she will lift the spirits of everyone in this house."

"Of course she will, for she is her mother's daughter." Sir Thomas More stood up and walked over to the Queen and took her hands in his. He caressed them gently and said softly, "I am very happy for you, my dear friend."

Katharine blushed and then stood up to see her guest out. "Thank you, my dear Thomas. You have been such a wonderful friend to us, to me." She allowed him to kiss her hands and even place a kiss upon her cheek. It was at that moment he King who had been walking the halls stopped when he heard the familiar voice of his wife and his trusted friend. He peered into the room and caught them embracing. His eyes narrowed as he watched Thomas kissing his wife. _How dare he_! And how dare the Queen allow such displays of affection!

Henry had half a mind to enter into the room and break them apart, but on second thought this might work to his advantage. If the Queen was carrying on her own affair, well surely she would have no leg to stand on and he would get his annulment. While this notion greatly pleased the King, he was very angry. Angry that Katharine could be so reckless and in his own home! Angry that she would chose Thomas More of all men to betray him with. And Thomas—there were no words that could express Henry's anger with his once trusted confidante. To think earlier he was ready to confess to Thomas that he was feeling troubled over Katharine. He could no longer trust this man nor his wife. Was there no one that Henry could turn to and trust?

***

_The Queen's bedchambers, later that evening_

Katharine had no idea that her husband had witnessed anything that afternoon. She said good-bye to Thomas and then went to her chapel to pray. At dinner she held faint hope that her husband might join her but alas, he did not. She occupied the rest of her evening with sewing a shirt for Henry before she returned to her bedchambers for another night of uneasy slumber. She was surprised to find Henry already in her bed, his arms crossed against his chest, his face a mask of anger. What had upset him so?

"Henry?" she asked softly, pulling back the covers.

When he did not respond, she sighed and then entered her side of the bed. Once settled, she picked up her Bible from the nightstand and began to read some of her favorite passages.

Henry stared at her. How could the woman read the Bible when she was defying the Ten Commandments? Never mind that he himself had defied them many times over…

"Put the book down, woman," he said harshly.

"It's not a book, Henry. It's the word of our Lord."

"Put it down," he commanded.

Katharine felt a chill run down her spine and hands shaking, she did as ordered.

The hours that had passed from the time he had "caught" his wife and Thomas did nothing to quiet his anger. He promised himself not to say anything to her, why let her know that he was aware of her affair? But he couldn't help it. Once she entered her room and this bed, it became too much for him.

Turning toward her, he snarled, "Tell me something Katharine, and was it his lips you were imagining when mine were pressed on yours last night?"

Blinking twice, Katharine tried to follow her husband's questioning. His…who? "What on earth?" she asked; not realizing she'd voiced it out loud.

"Do not play coy with me, woman. You heard me. Were you imagining his lips on yours last night? His arms around you?"

"Him who? What are you asking me, Henry? Speak plainly."

Letting out a deep breath, Henry's voice shook, "You want me to speak plainly? Well is this plain enough: were you or were you not dreaming of Sir Thomas last night when you were in my arms, kissing me?"

"Sir Thomas?" Katharine still did not grasp what her husband was getting at.

"Yes, Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas More. My dear—my _once_ dear—friend and former mentor. The man you are carrying on an affair with!"

At that, Katharine burst out laughing, much to the ire of her husband. "How dare you mock the King of England?"

"But Henry. How could you? Oh you surely do not think that I…that Sir Thomas and I…oh dear you cannot. Henry!" she chastised.

Why the thought was absurd!

"My eyes did not deceive me. I saw you."

"Saw me? I don't understand you, husband. The only man who has tasted my lips has been you. You were the man I kissed last night—and kissed me back. I only had eyes and thought for you, Henry. Not for any other man."

"Then what was that display about this afternoon?"

Display? Katharine searched her brain trying to understand where he was coming from. Oh! Finally a thought came to her. "Henry, I was merely thanking Sir Thomas for agreeing to tutor Mary. And I told him how happy I was that she was returning to the Palace for the holidays. He was happy for me. For both of us. That is all."

As Henry debated the merits of her words, Katharine went on. "Henry, you know that Thomas—Sir Thomas—and I are dear friends. Why we have known each other for so long now. And he's been so good to us. To this family. I think of him as a friend, perhaps as a brother but nothing more. I have never looked upon him as anything else and you can be certain neither has he."

Henry was not certain over the latter proclamation. "He is happily married to Alice. Please do not fill your head with such notions. I have loved no other man but you. Including Arthur," she added her voice soft. For it was true. She did love Arthur in a way, but only as a very good friend. A man she could have loved as her husband, had he lived but he hadn't and they hadn't much time before he died. No, the first…the only man she ever loved was next to her in bed.

The ire that had filled his belly was quickly being dispelled at his wife's soft words. He wanted to believe her and he didn't know why. Was it because he didn't want to be made a fool by her and by Thomas? Was it because he was possibly jealous at the thought of the two of them together?

Katharine placed a gentle hand on her husband's chest, feeling the rapidness of his heartbeat. He had worked himself into such a state. Part of her was horrified that he could think such things of her and Sir Thomas and yet there was a sliver of hope within her that her husband could be jealous.

"'Henry? I love only you. I want only you." Her voice was low and tremulous.

Henry could not bear it any longer. Tossing aside everything else, he turned to the woman beside him and kissed her thoroughly and passionately until her heart beat as fast as his head. "He could never kiss you like this," he told her.

Catching her breath, she shook her head. "Never. Never Henry."

Noting the flushed face and swollen lips of his wife, Henry stared at her momentarily before he decided to give in to the desires that he previously held at bay for her. Their union was long and passionate and for the Queen, slightly painful as she had not been with her husband in any intimacy for a few years now. The pain soon gave way to pleasure as she once again became one with her husband. It had been so long, but it didn't take too long before her body adjusted to what it had once been familiar with. There were no words while they coupled, just the sounds of their moans and their kisses, their groans and their pleasure. Some of Katharine's ladies-in-waiting were outside of the room and their eyebrows arched in surprise at the sounds emanating from her room. So the King and the Queen were reunited. What would this mean for Mistress Anne Boleyn, they wondered?

Neither Katharine nor Henry had Anne on their mind as they were together. When it was over, they lay spent in each other's arms, breathing heavily. They wanted to say something to the other, but neither knew what to say. So instead they entwined their bodies together and closed their eyes, sleeping in peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Note to My Readers**

Hi there. I thought I owed a note of explanation to my readers about this story since there is overwhelming interest in it. First of all, I'm so flattered by all of the compliments from everyone, the kind words and good feedback. It's really awesome. I can't believe how many people have made this story their favorite or put it on alert, etc.

Secondly, I'm so sorry for not updating this sooner. I have not given up on it. What has happened is that I've had a lot going on in my life (both at work and at home) and this hasn't been a priority. Add to that a big case of writers' block. I know where I want to go in this story; it's the getting there that's the problem.

If you have me on your author alert, you've noticed that I've written a couple of fanfics for _Queer as Folk_. That's something new and unexpected and it's been fun to get into and frankly it's been easier to write.

However, I'm not forgetting Katharine and Henry's story. I have written some of the next chapter. Last week I tried to seriously work on it and I got two pages in and thought it was complete crap and deleted it all. *sigh* Last night, however, an idea came to me of something that may just help me move the story along and get over my hump.

I can't make any promises on when there will be an update, but I will do my best to work on it when I can. I understand if you get too frustrated and decide not to stick around and for those who do, it means a lot.

Thank you all for reading and for those who have reviewed as well. You're the best!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I cannot apologize enough for the lack of updates. As I wrote in my Note to Readers, there have been a few factors, mainly writers' block. In the meantime I've been writing **_**Queer as Folk**_** fanfic. I had started to write this chapter a while back and I grew frustrated with its development and wound up deleting what I had written. Then a couple of weeks ago, I decided to start again, going in a slightly different direction. This decision was a big help. However, I accidentally replaced the file with chapter 6 of a **_**QAF**_** story I'm writing and I thought I was at square one, until I discovered that I had saved it elsewhere. The past couple of days, inspiration hit and here we are.**

**I hope it was worth it. I am a bit unsure with this as I feel some parts are a bit repetitive, but I think because it had been so long, I was trying to regain my footing so-to-speak. Things pick up from here on out. This is also the longest chapter thus far so I hope that makes up for things a little as well.**

**I cannot promise a date for the next update, but good news is that I know where I want it to go (or, at least how it will start). I'm also writing a **_**QAF**_** fic so we'll see how they both go.**

**Thank you all so much for your continued support. I'm beyond flattered by the amount of readers, reviewers, those who put this on alert and who add it as a favorite.**

**Chapter 6**

Henry did not know what to do with himself the next day when he awoke. He looked down at the woman whose sleeping form was in his arms and he sighed. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. Was it mere hours ago that they had become one—in body and in spirit? Henry could not believe that it had happened. He hadn't thought of his wife as a sexual being for some time. Countless miscarriages had taken its toll on her body and his desire for her waned due to his desire for the heir he knew she could no longer give him. Instead, he turned his affections elsewhere, primarily to Anne although the two of them had not lain together as man and woman.

Anne! What would she think if she knew what the King and Queen had been up to? She would be furious. And so very hurt. Well, he mustn't tell her. Why would he? There was nothing to tell. What happened last night was an aberration. It happened but it was a one-time only occurrence (technically it happened three times—and he had forgotten how ardent his Spaniard was) and would not be happening again. This did not change things between Katharine and Henry. Nor did this change things where Henry and Anne were concerned. The plan was still on. It had to be.

Still, Henry couldn't help but feel something for the woman he held in his arms. Upon their union, perhaps even before, he felt some of his bitterness towards her dissipate. There was nothing wrong with that, he told himself. He didn't have to hate her. Why should he? She had been a good wife, had given him his pride and joy, and had been a most excellent Queen. Henry could be an adult about this and offer Katharine an amicable settlement. If only she would take it.

Looking down at her, he surprised himself by softly brushing back tendrils of hair from her forehead before he extricated himself from her arms which caused her to stir (but not wake). Giving her one last lingering look, he eased out of her bed and grabbed his robe, softly walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. One of her ladies asked if the Queen was ready to be dressed but he told her to let her sleep. One of his men came along and eased him into his robe and walked him to his bedchambers. He went on about his day, business as usual. He avoided the Queen as much as he could, over the next few weeks.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

Rumors were running rampant through the court about the King and Queen. Astute ladies-in-waiting knew that Henry and Katharine had been intimate again, after years of abstaining. _What did this mean_, they wondered. Would the King put aside his quest for divorce and instead recommit himself to Her Majesty? Many in the court, nay in the Kingdom, hoped this would be the case. Others thought it was more of a show of pity. Or perhaps the King had been drunk or drugged. Not that they could imagine the Queen doing such a thing but what of her supporters?

As for the King himself, he was none too pleased that word had gotten out about his bedroom activities with the woman who was still legally his wife. Did she confess to someone, confessing in her native tongue? Maybe she was trying to humiliate him. Which he would not tolerate. Yet in all the years he had known her, he had never known her to be a gossip. It was more than likely that one of the staff somehow discovered them. Well, it was nary a matter as it had been a one-time-only thing (okay that was not the full truth, it had been three times but it was a one-night only event).

Henry still wanted his marriage to be over so he could pursue marriage with Lady Anne Boleyn. Anne who had repeatedly promised him that she would bear him male children, heirs to his throne to carry on the Tudor name. She would do what the Queen was unable to do. Yes, he and Katharine had had sons, but they all died, as did their daughters. Princess Mary was their only living child and though he loved her dearly, the Tudor Dynasty was too frail to be set upon a _woman_'s rule. So he would be forced to relegate her to status as a Lady and not a Princess, once his marriage to her mother was invalid. She would no longer be looked upon as a product of a royal marriage but a product of incest. This may be seen upon as cold, but it was as men were wont to do at the time, Henry was no different.

In the meantime, nothing was changing as there was a delay in court proceedings. They still were months away from resolution. Months that Henry's hands were tied. Katharine was…well, they didn't interact all that much anymore, outside of pleasantries and times when they had to interact, as protocol, particularly when anyone of importance came to see them. After their night together, Henry no longer slept in the same bed as Katharine. The need to "pretend" for the sake of appearances was no longer of importance. Henry went back to his bedchambers where he was able to acquire some semblance of peace of mind, unlike in Katharine's bed. There were no memories of the two of them in his room, not intimately. Although he would deny if ever questioned, another reason why he did not dare enter her bedchambers was so that he would not give into temptation.

The notion was quite humorous, when one thought of it. Here he had Lady Anne Boleyn, young and beautiful (no, not of typical beauty but she possessed this …lure that others didn't) and no doubt very fertile, in love with him and ready to bed him—only once he was divorced and legally wed to her, of course. He would soon have a new Queen. Why pass her up for the present Queen? The Queen who had aged quite a bit (granted they had been together for a very long time and the King Himself had aged though none would ever tell him as such) and lost some of her beauty. Some but not all for many in the Kingdom thought her beautiful and even Henry could not deny that she was. She had this quiet dignity and grace about her that he used to find alluring. Now it merely annoyed him. Finally, Katharine was barren and Henry desired a male heir above all else. Having sex with her would not change that fact. And ultimately, wasn't sex with one's spouse for procreation purposes? Because she could no longer become pregnant, that had been one of many excuses for Henry to not bed her any longer.

Up until that night weeks' ago, Henry kept faithful to himself, that is. Being with Katharine though, awakened a part of him that he always thought would remain asleep. Passion for the Spaniard. He'd taken her three times and yet it was not enough. His loins ached for her. Why was this? Was she some sort of witch who placed a spell upon him? What other explanation was there? None. The irony was that Katharine called Lady Anne a witch.

Henry longed to unburden his mind of these thoughts and his body of unbidden desires, but whom was he to turn to? The Duke of Suffolk was his closest confidante these days, but it was troublesome because he was married to Henry's sister Mary and if word got to her, she would no doubt be convinced that her brother and her King would return to his wife, the woman she held dear. Brandon would not do. Sir Anthony Knivert was someone whom he could trust to be discreet but the Earl of Wiltshire, Thomas Boleyn, and Norfolk (Thomas Howard) might come to him and wrangle it out of him, in the name of their daughter and niece, Anne. If only William Compton were still alive! Because he no longer trusted his own Chancellor, Cardinal Wolsey, Henry would not go to him. That left the one man he trusted above all others, Sir Thomas More. But Sir Thomas was clearly on Katharine's side, even if he promised to never speak ill of the King. And after catching them in a clinch, no. He would not do. There was always his personal priest but someone could be spying on him—a lady-in-waiting, perhaps? Someone that the Emperor planted for information that would lead him to go after Henry for hurting his beloved Aunt Katharine.

Bullocks! He would just have to remain mum on this subject. He would have to erase the memory from his mind and replace it with new memories. And in the meantime, he had something to look forward to: his only child, his beloved daughter, Princess Mary, was due back to Court in days. Her presence was sorely missed, even though he wasn't often apt to admit it. She brought him joy that no other could. Which is what the Court needed right now, with all the tensions that ran high. Henry was determined to make Mary's stay a pleasant one; he intended to indulge her whims, spoil her. The holidays were fast approaching and as it would be her last at Court, her last as a Princess, he wanted to make it memorable for her.

Some may think him cruel for wanting to strip his only child of her title and household and everything else that came with being a Princess and the daughter of a King, but Henry was not doing this to be cruel. He was doing this because he had to. This is what Kings did. He was no different than them. In fact, he was a much kinder father than his own, Henry VII had been. Mary was a stubborn girl like her mother and her father, but she was also strong. She would be hurt by being displaced and being called a bastard, but she would rise above it and manage to accept her fate. Mary would get over it. She'd have to. Perhaps he could convince her to join a nunnery since her mother refused to go herself. Though still a child, Mary was a pious, devout girl, which came to no surprise given her mother's piousness. Even Henry himself had once been on the course to becoming the Archbishop of Canterbury. That all changed when his brother Arthur died and he became heir to his father's throne.

His thoughts were interrupted by a presence in the room. A servant bowed to him and told him that the Duke of Suffolk was there to see him.

Charles came in once given the okay and he bowed. "Your Majesty."

Nodding at his friend, Henry replied, "Your Grace."

"To what do I owe this honor?" was the Duke's solemn question.

Henry chuckled at his friend's solemnity. "Charles, enough of that. I requested you for a very important duty, if you are willing."

"Of course my Lord."

"The Princess of Wales, my daughter Mary, is returning to Court in a fortnight. I want you to bring her here."

Widening his eyes, Charles nodded and gave his assent. "Of course. It will be my honor to do so."

"I want no stop pulled for her. There are to be pageants and jousts in her honor. Dances. I have bought her a new virginal and I want her to play for me. The cooks are to make her favorite meals, which she will eat in the presence of her mother the Queen and me."

Brandon nodded, taking everything in. Dare he think that his friend actually sounded excited? Even knowing that Mary's presence meant that he and the Queen would have to keep up appearances—to a point. Mary was no naïve little girl any longer. She knew of the strife between her parents. But Henry seemed determined to make this a special time for his daughter so Charles himself would do everything in his power to make sure that happened.

"May I say that her aunt is looking forward to seeing her namesake?"

Henry smiled at this. He knew how much his sister adored Princess Mary. "And her cousins are anxious to see her as well."

"Her first night back, our families shall have dinner together."

Charles smiled. So it was possible that Henry still considered Katharine his family. That was a good sign, was it not?

Henry peered at his brother-in-law suspiciously. "What are you thinking, Brandon?"

Covering his prior thoughts, Charles said, "I was remembering when the Princess Mary was merely a babe in your arms and how you would carry her around Court and bring her to meetings with foreign dignitaries. Do you remember what you used to say of her?"

Smiling at the memory, Henry replied, "Of course I do. I said that she must be an angel for she never cried."

"You also called her the most—" began Charles but Henry interrupted. "The most beautiful pearl in all the Kingdom. Yes. That is still true. While I have not been blessed with sons thus far, thanks to an incestuous marriage, I was blessed with a wonderful daughter. I could not hope for a better one."

"I'm happy for you, Henry," admitted Charles and Henry smiled and placed his arm around Charles' shoulders as he explained exactly what he wanted done in honor of his pearl.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

The Queen was as delighted—even more so—than her husband about her daughter's return to Court. Oh how she had missed her only child ever so much! Katharine longed to see her daughter daily and raise her the same way Isabella had raised her, but she knew things were different in England. And once Henry's bastard son Henry Fitzroy had been given his own household, well it was expected that Mary would get Ludlow as Princess of Wales. And thus, mother and daughter, queen and princess, had been separated. It had been some time since she saw her last; surely she had grown even lovelier than she had been.

Katharine could not wait to hold her child in her arms again, to sing to her. She was looking forward to teaching her things that her own mother Isabella had taught her. Mary was growing older now and there were certain expectations for her. While Katharine knew she was under excellent tutelage, there were certain things only a daughter of a Queen (and King) could tell another. She was also looking forward to watching her daughter dance and play the virginals, to sing and to speak with her in Latin and other tongues. It would bring her much joy and she knew it would bring joy to her husband. No matter what, Henry loved their child and would surely spoil her upon her return. Katharine had already been informed of many of the King's desires for her visit and even the Queen was surprised by his generosity. A nagging part of her said it was out of guilt for separating them for so long. Another part reminded her that this could possibly be Mary's last holidays at Court as a Princess, which broke her poor mother's heart.

Mary was the legitimate heir to the Tudor throne. The Pope saw her as such, as did the Kingdom. Princess Mary was much beloved with the People. For Henry to make her a bastard, that was cruel, even if it was not unusual of royalty to behave in such manner. While Katharine had never wished ill upon that poor child Fitzroy, she was grateful that in his death, Mary once again was first-in-line for the throne. Unless and until Henry had legitimate male heirs and since Katharine was unable to provide him with such, he was determined to find someone who would and that someone was Lady Anne Boleyn.

The thought that such a woman could usurp her own position and her children usurp Mary's sickened the Queen.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Lady Anne Boleyn had been told of the rumors surrounding the King and the Queen. Upon first hearing them she had laughed. Heartily. One might even call it cackling. Her beloved Henry making love to that old hag? The notion was so ridiculous that it was downright absurd. There was no reason for Henry to be with Katharine. Even out of pity. She hadn't confronted him yet as there was no solid evidence, just the gossip out of the mouths of Spanish ladies-in-waiting. Anne could not stand the Spanish people and couldn't wait to oust them once she was crowned Queen. She would have loyal women, mostly French because the French (unlike the Spanish) could be trusted.

Anne was growing more and more impatient for the dissolution of Henry's marriage. It was a farce, couldn not everybody see that already? If it was not for Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More, not to mention Rome and the Emperor, it would have been over and done with, years ago even. She and Henry would be happily married with sons and daughters of their own. Alas, that was not the case. She had remained for so long and had to remain longer until the Legatine Court was back in session. Despite the delays, she was certain that they would rule in Henry's favor. He was the King after all and no matter how "beloved" the Queen may be, she was a foreigner, the Dowager Princess and her child with Henry was a bastard.

Right now things remained the same. Court was buzzing with the impending arrival of Princess Mary. Anne wished that the people would go on about something or someone else. What was so fascinating about this child—a _female_ one at that? Anne neither understood nor did she care to. Henry told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to interact with the Princess at Court. Reluctantly, she agreed to stay away, only via promise that this was Mary's last visit to Court as a princess. Next year, why next year they would be married and expecting their own Prince.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

A week before Mary's return, her mother Queen Katharine had fallen ill. She could not remember the last time she had felt so poorly. She had no energy and could not keep any food down and often felt dizzy. She was afraid she might have to be bled. That was the last thing she wanted. She did not want to be an invalid chained to her bed throughout her daughter's stay. She prayed to the Good Lord that her humors would improve. She also feared the Sweating Sickness. What if it finally overtook her as it nearly did when her poor first husband, Prince Arthur had succumbed? If she died, then everything she fought for would be in vain. Henry would have his "out" to marry anyone he wanted. After all, he would be a widower with a motherless child. So after a mourning period (which she was certain would be short), he would be free to marry Boleyn. And their children would succeed to the throne before Mary. Mary would perhaps be able to retain her title as Princess, but nothing more. The Queen could hardly bear it. She did not wish to die, even though she did look forward to one day reuniting with her beloved mother and her siblings.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

"Have you heard, daughter, about the Queen?" asked Thomas Boleyn, Anne's father.

Anne gave her father a curious look. What news could there possibly be that her father was anxious to impart?

"I am told she is very ill. She has not eaten for days."

"Really?" Anne asked in surprise.

"Really. They say she is very weak and dizzy and may need to be bled."

"I would say Poor Katharine—" began Anne but her uncle interrupted.

"Indeed. If she were to die, everything would be resolved. There would be no need for a ruling from the legal system or from the Pope himself. After a brief mourning period, Henry would be free to marry whomever he wants. And he wants to marry you."

Anne's eyes lit up at the prospect. "Indeed. And the People could not fault me for agreeing to marry at the request of a widower."

Smiling, her father concurred. "Your marriage would be viewed as legitimate in every way and any children you have would be first in the line of succession."

"I'm sure there are a great many who are praying for the recovery of their Queen," spoke up her brother George who watched his sister's reaction to this news with keen interest.

Nodding solemnly, Anne said, "Of course. But that does not mean that _I_ have to."

"Indeed," said her father who was lifting his wine goblet to his brother-in-law's.

_Indeed_, thought Anne. Through no will of her own, the Queen had fallen ill, deathly ill perhaps. Things were looking up for the Boleyns.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Henry was in the middle of an important discussion with Brandon, Knivert, and some others (but none of the Boleyns) when they were interrupted by Ambassador Eustace Chapuys and Sir Thomas More. Both of them looked rather distressed and they apologized for interrupting him but said it was of utmost importance that they speak with him.

"Speak, your Excellency," he said with a nod to Chapuys.

He looked over at Sir Thomas before he began. "Your Majesty, I have heard alarming news about the Queen's health."

If Henry was surprised, he did not show it. "She is in very poor health and has lain in her sickbed for days, unable to keep anything down. Her doctors do not know what is wrong with her."

Looking pensive, Henry told him to continue. "Your Majesty," started Thomas who picked up from Chapuys, "We request that you send her your own personal doctor, Doctor Linacre. He may be able to help her."

Henry looked over at his friends and after releasing a sigh, he nodded. "Of course. Charles, I want you to personally go to him and tell him that I have requested his presence with the Queen. He is to examine her and do whatever it is in his power to help her."

Both Chapuys and Sir Thomas were a bit taken aback by how determined Henry sounded. They thought it might take more to convince him of her state.

Bowing, Chapuys said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Katharine is still the Queen and the mother of my child. Of course I want her to be well," Henry added, in case any in the room questioned his sincerity.

"Thank you, Harry. I know how much Her Majesty had been looking forward to Princess Mary's return which is in a week. I pray to the Good Lord that He may have Mercy on her body and heal her in time for such a joyous occasion."

"Yes of course," agreed Henry, though he wondered at the passion in Thomas' voice. Could it be that he wanted the Queen alive for his own purposes? Nonsense, that was simply nonsense and he could not indulge in such thoughts.

"Anthony, I want you to go along with Charles and then I want one or the both of you to tell me exactly what Linacre says after he has examined her. I want to be apprised of her condition and if there is anything he needs, let me know."

"Of course your Majesty," echoed the two.

Everyone left the room and so Henry was alone with his thoughts. Henry didn't notice that his hands had formed a fist, his knuckles white with concern for Katharine. He should be thinking of what it would mean if she were to die—marriage to Anne with no impediment. The thought never crossed his mind. His only hope was that her health improved and that she would enjoy their daughter's visit.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

"I can hardly believe it Tony, can you?" asked Charles after they finished discussing Katharine's condition with Dr. Linacre who had thoroughly examined her.

Shaking his head, Tony said, "No. It is a wonder why her own doctor didn't diagnose her correctly."

But Charles was not surprised. This news was fairly astonishing.

"What will he do?" Charles' friend asked.

"I am not sure," admitted Brandon. "But I believe this will change _everything_."

Nodding, Knivert followed Brandon back through the Court to Henry's apartments where the King was waiting for word on the Queen.

"Well?" Henry asked impatiently once they arrived. Both of them were quiet and kept glancing back and forth at each other. _Dear God, it must be serious_, Henry thought.

Neither spoke, which frustrated the King. "Was Linacre able to diagnose her?"

The two men nodded. "And?" Henry asked expectantly.

Tony moved to speak but found himself mute. How was he supposed to deliver such news?

"For the love of God, will ONE of you just tell me already!" demanded the King whose ire was building. "Is she dying?"

Glancing at Anthony who seemed stricken, Charles decided it would be up to him. "No, Henry. Katharine is not dying. Nor was she."

Henry let out breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. That was good news, was it not? "But she is ill? Her symptoms…" his voice trailed off in confusion.

Shaking his head, Charles explained, "She is not ill. They were symptomatic of a condition."

Condition? Henry was even more confused. Why were they so evasive?

"What are you trying to tell me, Charles?"

Swallowing, he blurted out, "The Queen is with child."

"The Queen is…what?" Henry asked in disbelief.

"Katharine is pregnant, Henry. You are going to have a child in about eight months."

The glass that Henry had been holding shattered as he dropped it upon hearing the news.

"That cannot be true," he told them, skeptical of the news.

"It is," Knivert finally spoke up.

"But…that is impossible!" he cried. "She's barren."

"Evidently she is not. For Linacre said she is most definitely with child. Her own doctors never even assumed it was a possibility, which is why they did not discover the condition sooner. He asked her if she had been intimate recently and she admitted…" Charles didn't dare look at his friend as he revealed such personal things.

Waving a hand, Henry said, "No more. I know. My God, I can hardly believe it. Katharine is pregnant." He shook his head, still not able to imagine such a possibility.

Charles did not know what to say. If this had been the Henry of old, he would be cautiously optimistic. Optimistic because he desired children with his beloved Queen but cautious because of the bitter disappointment from all of the miscarriages and stillborns. However, this was not the old Henry but the new one, the one that wanted to divorce the Queen (or annul their marriage), make Princess Mary a bastard, marry the Boleyn girl and father children (heirs) with her.

Not looking at either of his friends, Henry went on, as if talking to himself. "After all this time, she is pregnant. How is this so? Anne will never forgive me. And I cannot pursue a divorce when the Queen is pregnant with my child! How unfortunate that this is to happen now!"

That was the reaction that Charles was expecting. It was sad, really. The King should be elated. Instead of being concerned about his wife and their child, he was worried about how this was to affect divorce proceedings and affect Boleyn.

"Pregnant! The Queen!" exclaimed Henry, shaking his head. He found a bottle of whiskey and shakily poured himself a glass. He was going to need a lot of liquid courage in the coming days—months. Pregnant!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: Wow, two updates within days of each other; can you believe it? I hardly can and I wrote them. LOL! I must admit that I was floored by all the reviews for the previous chapter. You all rock so hard, thank you! **

**Also, I wanted to thank those of you who have expressed concern for me regarding my mother. I have good news to share: she has finished her chemo treatment! It was rather aggressive (12 rounds over 6 months) and hopefully all the bad cells were zapped. She's hanging in there but the side effects will linger for a while. It's been one crazy journey for her and for me. I appreciate the kind words that I've been given by many of you.**

**Chapter 7**

After receiving the news of his wife's pregnancy, Henry remained quiet. His friends found him to be too quiet for their liking. Yes, he was dumbfounded at first and marveled over the impossibility of it all but now he seemed to be internalizing things. Both Charles and Anthony were worried for the King. He did not seem to be taking the news well at all.

Not being able to bear the silence anymore, Charles finally spoke up. "Henry, are you all right?"

Whipping his head around, Henry stared at his best friend. "Are you fucking mad? Of course I'm not fucking all right! How do you expect me to be all right when…when…I cannot even say it?"

His eyes were wild and Charles stepped back. "This ruins everything!" cried the King in frustration. "Everything. How can I continue with divorce or annulment proceedings when the Queen is with child? The Kingdom would not allow such a move. As it is many are angered with me for wanting to divorce her and I am fine with that, but there are only so many lines that can be crossed. Not to mention the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V who will wage a war if I cross his pregnant aunt. Even France with King Francis will not be on my side. The bishops and cardinals will be against me as well."

He shook his head, the weight of the news giving him a headache. "And yet, what will this do to my beloved Anne? She will not forgive me for bedding Katharine one last time let alone three—" at this revelation, Charles and Anthony raised their eyebrows in surprise at one another. _He took the Queen three times?_

Ignoring the looks of his mates, Henry continued. "Even if she were able to forgive my indiscretion, she will never forgive me for conceiving another child with Katharine."

Neither Brandon nor Knivert thought that was necessarily a bad thing, even though their friend obviously disagreed. To their minds, this was going to solve a lot of problems. How could they impart this upon His Majesty though?

"Are you not pleased, my Lord, to have another child?"

Closing his eyes, Henry thought of the prospect. "Don't you understand, Brandon, that the likelihood that the Queen carries this child to term and this child being healthy and viable is quite slim? Given past history alone… Not to mention it is unlikely that this will be a son. This means we are right back to square one. I will be humiliated if she were to give birth to a healthy daughter."

Charles had daughters whom he loved but he also had the son that Henry wished he could have, so he did not know how to assure the King. "It is possible," he acknowledged. "Is it not?"

"The fact that Katharine is with child to begin with speaks of the impossible being possible. But I dare not hope as I had in the past. I will resign myself to this: the proceedings will be delayed not only through the holidays but throughout her pregnancy. Once the child is born, if it indeed survives, we will go from there, depending on the sex. If the child does not survive then after a period of grief, our path continues."

Both men nodded their agreement even if they felt it was cold. But Henry was a King before he was their friend and royals were not exactly known for their warmth. Except of course for the Queen. She, however, had been raised in different circumstances.

"Where is Linacre?" Henry asked them, startling them from their thoughts.

"He remains in the Queen's apartments, in one of her sitting rooms. I told him that you might want to speak with him," explained Charles.

"Good man," Henry said. "I shall speak to him and hear what he has to say myself. Before I go, I have a request that I need you two to follow."

"Of course, Your Majesty," they both said.

"Do not tell another soul about this conversation or about the Queen's condition. There is no use causing rampant rumors throughout Court. Both enemies and friends (he didn't specify whether his enemies or Katharine's) could use this to their advantage. I will determine when others need to know. For now this stays amongst the three of us, Katharine, and Linacre. Do her ladies know?"

"I do not believe so," offered Anthony. "They were not with her when he examined her nor when we spoke to him."

"Good. It had better stay that way. At the very least until I am able to speak with the Lady Anne in private over this matter."

His friends agreed to keep this matter to themselves and shortly thereafter, Henry left.

Knivert was shaking his head. "This is a mess," he declared.

Brandon gave him an unsure glance. "It does not have to be. This could solve everything."

"You're awfully hopeful, Charles. To my way of thinking, there are many variables. That the Queen doesn't miscarry; that the child is not stillborn; that the child is healthy; and above all else, that the child is a male."

"That it is all true. But the fact that the Queen is carrying the King's child in the first place is a rather large miracle in itself, do you not agree?"

"Of course. But it is at the worst possible time," he said, echoing the King's earlier words.

"Or at the best possible time."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

"Your Majesty," greeted the King's personal doctor, Linacre.

Henry nodded in acknowledgement. "I am told that you have thoroughly tended to my wife the Queen and come to a conclusion on what ails her."

"Yes I have."

After making sure that the door was closed to any outside ears, Henry walked the doctor over to the window whose curtains were drawn so no one could see them.

"I've been told that she is with child. Is that true?"

Nodding, the doctor said, "Yes. I would say that the Queen is approximately four weeks' along. This means, if all goes well, the child will be born sometime in late June."

"And what are the chances that everything will go well?" wondered the King.

"Your Majesty, I cannot give you statistics. Her Majesty is," he paused, trying to speak delicately, "she is older than when she carried Princess Mary. Age can sometimes be a detriment. But that does not necessarily indicate that there will be any more problems than usual. I know she has a record of stillborns and miscarriages. That is always a concern."

That in itself was enough reason for Henry not to anticipate this pregnancy. What good had it done him, in the past, to look forward to having another child when she lost it during pregnancy or when the child died days after birth? Or worse yet, in the case of Prince Henry, less than two months after birth? He had held so much hope in that child, his little prince. It was their second child—after losing a first daughter—and he was born on New Year's Day, surely that was a sign of positive things to come? Alas, he died of fever.

"Still, she could have a normal pregnancy and smooth delivery and give birth to a fine, healthy son," the doctor told him, trying to be reassuring.

"Yes well we'll see, won't we?" asked a doubting Henry.

The doctor did not know how to respond. He was well aware of the King's Great Matter and now this would complicate things. However, it was not his place to judge; he was merely a doctor.

Sighing, the King asked, "Is there anything else I need to be aware of about her condition?"

"Just that she needs to avoid stress as much as possible."

Henry nearly laughed at that remark. Avoid stress? With everything that was going on.

"She needs to rest as much as she feels like and take it easy when she needs to. She must eat a healthy diet. I will monitor her condition as much as you would like, unless you prefer one of her own doctors…" Linacre's voice trailed off as the King shook his head.

"That won't be necessary. I will entrust their care—that of the Queen's health and the health of this child—to your good hands."

The doctor expressed his gratitude and said that he would do everything within his power to make sure that they were both well. He also told the King that he would be at their service, whenever needed. Henry thanked him and then dismissed him.

Finally he was alone. Sitting down in a chair he bowed his head as he tried to wrap his mind around the news that was told to him a mere hour ago. _Now what?_ He wondered. _What must I do about this?_

His next thoughts were to the reaction of the Lady Anne. She would be devastated at his "betrayal." How could he hurt her like that? It was not fair that the Queen should become pregnant _now_. However unfair, though, it was a fact that he could not avoid, even if he wanted. He must tell Anne before she heard it elsewhere for although he trusted Knivert and Brandon, there were many in Court whom he did not and word would spread like fire at the news.

He had one stop to make before seeking out Anne though.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

The Queen was resting in her bed, her long hair cascading down her shoulders. She was feeling a bit nauseous, which is why she was still in bed. What she wanted to do was to find Dr. Linacre and ask him what was wrong with her. Was it so horrible that he was afraid to share it with her? Was she truly dying?

Katharine had been quite surprised to learn that Henry had summoned his own private doctor to attend to her. Maybe he still had some feeling left for her. She didn't want to oblige her cynical thoughts which said that he merely put on appearances as she was told that both Sir Thomas More and his Excellency Eustace Chapuys had gone to the King on her behalf. He might have felt pressure to take action.

Dr. Linacre was a most excellent doctor. He was well-studied and he had taken good care of her husband, whenever he fell ill. He even looked in on Mary on the few occasions when she had been so ill that Henry sent him after her. He had asked a good deal of questions, even intimate ones which had made the Queen blush slightly. She didn't understand why he would inquire of such matters, after all it was well-known that she was unable to bear children and impossible that she would have conceived a month ago. At least, that is what she was trying to convince herself as it would be too painful to hope otherwise.

Suddenly she heard her door opening, so she straightened her posture in bed. She wondered who it was and why none of her ladies informed her of company. Turning her head in the direction of the door, she was surprised to find her husband entering.

"Henry," she said in surprise.

"Madam," he greeted her, walking towards her bed. She stared at him. He seemed deep in thought; there were creases along his forehead. He seemed to want to say something, but did not know how. This was making her nervous. Surely he wouldn't give her the news of her illness, would he? Oh such a cruel thought that he would gloat over her predicament and his good fortune.

Henry hesitated as he looked over at his wife who looked quite pale and tired. He wondered how she had taken the news of her pregnancy. He was certain that she would feel vindicated.

"Please tell me what is troubling you, 'husband. It is not Mary, is it?" she asked with concern.

Shaking his head, he said, "No. Princess Mary is well as I am told."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Katharine then said, "You have spoken to Dr. Linacre about my condition, haven't you?"

He nodded gravely. "It is really serious, is it not?"

He gave her a peculiar look. "He didn't tell you?" Henry asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "No. Please, what is wrong? Am I…am I…" she couldn't say it.

"Katharine, you are with child," her husband told her bluntly, not softening the news.

She merely stared at him. "What did you say?" she asked and he repeated it.

"But, but that is impossible!" she cried in confusion. "The doctors all along have said that I could not…that is why we have not…these past years…no."

"It is true. You are a month along."

Katharine didn't need to do the math; the one (three) and only time she'd been intimate with her husband in so long was forever etched in her mind. "Dios Mio!" she exclaimed and then made the sign of the cross. It was a miracle. Her prayers have been answered, after all these years!

She wanted to leap for joy or even weep for joy, but she couldn't as that was unbecoming of a Queen and she also was still feeling poorly. But at least now she knew why. It had crossed her mind briefly a week ago when she first started feeling ill but she hadn't allowed herself to even dream that it was possible. She should have trusted her first instinct and trusted that anything was possible with the Lord. She crossed herself again and gave a silent prayer of gratitude.

"Thank you for telling me, 'enry," she said her voice soft and tender.

"Yes, well about that. I do not want it known throughout the Court just yet about your pregnancy," he informed her and she gave him a dismayed look. Ignoring it, he said, "It is too soon to make any announcements, we must wait at least until you are further along."

"I understand," she told him and she did. Especially given her past pregnancies and losses. While she wanted to tell certain people of the news, for now she will keep it a secret. "What about our daughter Mary? Can she be told that she will have a new sibling to look forward to?" she asked him with hope in her eyes.

Shaking his head, Henry said, "No. She is not to know right away either. Katharine, I know you think this is cruel of me—" she remained silent neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his assessment, "but I am doing what's best. For all of us. It will do Mary no good to get caught up and then be disappointed."

So that's what it was. He had no hope for this child—for their child. "If that is what you desire, then so shall it be."

Henry raised a brow, surprised that his wife gave in so easily. He was relieved though as he did not want yet another fight with her on his hands.

"Linacre will be your physician throughout this pregnancy." Another surprise. Henry was going all out, having his personal doctor monitor her.

"Thank you, Henry," she told him graciously and he nodded.

Her mind was swimming with a multitude of thoughts. Her most pressing one was what did this mean for them, for their marriage? Would he still pursue a divorce, even in her state? Would he still leave her for Lady Anne? She didn't dare ask those things.

As if anticipating what was on her mind, Henry told her much of what he told Knivert and Brandon, though he worded it a bit more delicately. Grateful to him, Katharine reached out her hand and placed it atop his. "I will do everything in my power to keep this pregnancy, Henry. You must know that."

"I do." And he meant the same for his part. Seeing the serious look on her husband's face, Katharine couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern for him. She knew that this is not what he ever would have anticipated, but it was happening. He must be so overwhelmed. Katharine herself was. It was difficult to process such news, even though to her it was joyous news.

"Are you feeling well now?"

Nodding, she said, "Just a bit nauseous."

"I will have someone bring something for you."

She gave him a small smile and thanked him with a squeeze of his hand. Heaving a sigh, he nearly reached out to brush a tendril of hair off her forehead, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't get caught up in her, not now. It would only cloud the issue and things were clouded enough with the pregnancy. Instead he pulled his hand away from hers and walked away from her bed. If she was bothered, she didn't show it.

"I must go. I have a meeting to attend." It was a lie but he did have somewhere important to be.

"Henry?" she asked when he was at the door, his hand on the knob, about to turn it. He turned around and looked at her. "Yes?"

"Thank you for being the one to tell me about the pregnancy. I'm grateful that the news came from you."

Swallowing, he nodded and then left the room and her apartments. When he was in a private hall, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath even though he hadn't exerted himself, he felt out of breath. Closing his eyes, he took a breath before finding one of his servants. "I want you to find the Lady Anne Boleyn and tell her to meet me in my privy within the hour. It is imperative that this happens," he added and the young man gave his assent, leaving to fetch her.

Forty-five minutes later, Anne arrived to his privy chambers. "Your Majesty?" she asked with deference, wondering what hopeful news he might bring.

"We have to talk," he began without any pleasantries. "It is about Katharine."

Anne had to force herself not to roll her eyes. _What now?_ She wondered. _What is that old lady up to?_

Henry had waged a battle within himself on how to brace the news to Lady Anne, but he ultimately opted for bluntness. "The Queen is pregnant."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes:**** Well it's been a busy month and a half! I miss the days of having a real summer and not having to work every day. ;) This chapter has been written in drips and drabs whenever I had some time to devote to it. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Thank you so much for all of the support—I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read and especially those who also review. I know that I owe responses to those reviews and I **_**will**_** get to them!**

**A couple of clarifications: this **_**is**_** a Henry/Katharine story. Although jealousy of Sir Thomas More has been teased, this is not a TomKat romance. On the flip side, I am also not killing off Katharine in favor of Anne. It's been done before and I'm trying to have a different story here (whether I succeed or not is up to you). There are plenty of Henry/Anne fics out there; this isn't one of them. I appreciate those of you who are Anne fans and are reading this story (even more, liking it!). I will admit that I'm not a fan of hers (either the historical figure or the various fictionalized versions of her, particularly on **_**The Tudors**_**). I did try my best to be fair to her (at least in this chapter). If any of this changes your opinion of the story or of the writing, I understand. However, I am grateful for those who continue on the journey of Henry and Katharine.**

**Chapter 8**

Anne's reaction was not what Henry had anticipated. Fury, anger, betrayal, sadness, all of that had been expected. Alas, Anne's initial reaction was hysterical laughter. Eyes widening, Henry wished that she would just shut up as that cackling was hardly befitting a future Queen of England!

"Have you gone mad, Woman?" he questioned after minutes of her laughter roared on.

"Oh Henry," she said between giggles. "Look at you. You. You are so serious My Love. Why?"

Surely she was not deaf. "Did you not hear me? The Queen is with child."

Now she was laughing so hard that tears fell down her cheeks. "Yes. I heard you. And thank you, Henry. Thank you for giving me a good laugh. Imagine that old…with child."

That…old…was still the Queen, still her Queen and sometimes Henry wanted to remind her of that fact, which she still owed a bit of decorum.

"Why it's perfectly absurd," Anne went on. "Everyone knows that she is barren. And even if she were not, why it would have to be an Immaculate Conception, would it not?"

The fact that Henry remained silent should have made Anne realize he was speaking the truth, but it was unacceptable! "Henry. I mean, you and Katharine have not been intimate for years, you yourself have told me and it is not as if I did not know this already. I was one of her ladies after all."

Henry need not be reminded of that fact. However, a Queen's ladies did not know everything that went on in their Majesty's bedchambers, particularly Katharine's. To be fair to Lady Anne though, he had told her on several occasions that he and his wife no longer slept together and would never again. And in all truth, he never imagined himself with Katharine again. Yet it had happened and as a result, she was with child.

At his continued silence, Anne began to grow nervous. "Surely this did not happen. Tell me that you did not lie beside the Queen, that you did not have relations with her."

Shaking his head, Henry knew he could not lie to her. "Yes, I did," he confessed and she looked at him blankly, disbelieving.

"I had relations with Katharine and now she is with child." He could not make it any clearer. If she chose to disbelieve him, that was not on Henry's conscience.

"No," she stated softly. "No," she repeated, this time forcefully, shaking her head. "No. You did not! You would not!"

"Anne, control yourself."

"Control myself? If you had controlled yourself, we would not be in this situation. This is preposterous! That you would…with her…and she's now…I cannot believe you."

A glint in his eye, Henry's words were harsh as he told her, "Remember whom you are speaking to."

Huffing, Anne did not care at the moment that he was her King. "I am speaking to the man I love, the man I am supposed to be married to!"

She was behaving as if a petulant child!

"That man," he reminded her coolly, "is also the bloody King of England!"

Anne struggled to hide her natural inclination—which was to roll her eyes. She knew damn well who and what he was. He reminded everyone often enough; it was not as though she could ever forget!

"Pray tell, your Majesty, that you could have sex with her Majesty."

"I have needs, Anne. I am a man and a King. I have been damn patient."

That was not quite true and they both knew it.

"So are you saying it was my fault because I would not let you take my virginity?"

"If you had been willing, we could have been intimate long ago."

"Ahh," Anne said, the obviousness dawning on her. "And if I had and became with child, that son, our son, would have been a bastard. I was trying to give you a legitimate heir."

Mary was his legitimate heir, although she was a girl.

Frowning, Henry could not deny that reality. Still, she could have filled his appetite instead of teasing him as an appetizer.

"And even so, you could have taken on another whore, it's not as if you had not in the past," she reminded him, which raised his ire.

"You mean your sister?" he sneered, causing her to glare at him. How dare he!

"No, I mean Bessie Blount who gave you that bastard Fitzroy."

"Do not speak of my dead child."

"Or one of the many other women you've bedded," she went on, ignoring his outcry.

"There are so many, I do not even know where to begin to count."

"You had better watch what you say, woman."

"I cannot believe you did this. After everything you promised me. You told me that you no longer found her desirable. Lies. All lies. And words with empty meanings."

"I never lied to you."

Squaring her shoulders, Anne let out a chuckle before asking, "Are you to tell me you found her repulsive when you had sex with her and created a child?"

Henry could not say that. It was not true.

She took his silence for what it meant, and her eyes grew cold and her tone distant. "I see."

"Anne, love…"

"Do not 'Anne love' me! If you really loved me, you would not have done that. What am I to do now? Now that there is another child—bastard or not—in this farce of a marriage you have with that Spanish woman? Tell me, Henry."

"It's only eight more months that we have to wait," he began and she threw her head back and laughed at that. _Only eight months?_ Was he being facetious? If so, she found him unamusing. It was ridiculous.

"And then what?" she wondered. What could he possibly say to make this better?

"And then we will know if the child is a girl or boy, if the child survives, or even if Katharine survives."

Closing her eyes, Anne mulled this over. It was true that it was unlikely to be a male child and even more unlikely that the child would survive—after all, there was only one surviving child of the "marriage" and that was a girl. Not to mention Katharine's age this made it more unlikely that this would be a smooth pregnancy and delivery.

Taking in Anne's silence, Henry regarded her as he said, "Just think about it."

He did not whisper sweet nothings or even declare his love for her. He just left it up to her. But he was the fucking King of England as he always liked to remind people, if he wanted something—in this case Anne's acquiescence—she had little choice. She would, however, stew about it.

"I will," she finally agreed, which caused his lip to turn upright into a small smile.

"Thank you. I need one more thing from you, my Lady."

Anne let out a frustrated sigh. _What else is he going to request of me?_ She wondered unhappily. As if dealing with this was not enough on its own.

"I need you to keep this between the two of us," he told her firmly. She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Why?"

It was not her place to question him but Anne often did things like that. Sometimes he liked that she would not just accept things but other times he wanted more obedience. However, given the circumstances of what he just told her, he was a tad more lenient with her outbursts.

"There are only a few people who know. Including Katharine, the doctor, and myself, there are two others and you who know. I do not want it out there for the gossips. Not now, it could ruin everything."

She held back from yelling "well nothing would be ruined if you had not had sex with her!" If she truly did want to marry him still, she would have to agree with his sentiments. The dilemma was that she was so angry at him.

"You cannot hide it forever, my Lord," Anne plainly stated.

Nodding, Henry said, "That is true. But it is so early on in the pregnancy, as I said before. If she were to lose the child and everyone knew…"

He did not have to say the rest. The sympathy of the Kingdom which was already much in the Queen's favor would be even more so. How could a King throw out his grieving wife? No, they would have to be careful about the timing of everything.

"All right, Henry. I understand."

She made no promises though. Which, had Henry been paying close attention, he would have realized. However, his mind was elsewhere, all he knew is that is seemed she was agreeing him, which was pleasing.

Anne looked at the King and shook her head. He was a jumble of thoughts and emotions; it was hard to register any one in particular. She wondered if he realized that she did not say that she would tell no soul—she thought of a few such souls that she might confide in, namely her father, her uncle, and her brother. The latter being the one she wanted to share with the most. If she told her father and uncle they would be greatly disappointed in her and start blaming her for the King's actions.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Katharine was having a hard time reconciling what both Henry and Doctor Linacre had told her—that she was indeed with child, one month along. How could this be possible? It was a miracle. She felt this in her bones and so she praised the Lord over and over for his blessing upon her. She also fervently prayed that this child would be born and that it would be happy. It would be unfair to say that she did not pray that this child would be a son—for that had been her prayer for so long—but if the Lord desired to bless her with another daughter she could not imagine not loving her as much as she did her Mary.

Happiness was bursting within her and she yearned to share it, but it could not be so. Henry made her promise not to tell anyone—not even their daughter—and she agreed. To go back on that agreement would not be good at all, particularly with the state of their marriage so tenuous as is. As far as Katharine knew, the only ones who were privy to the fact of her pregnancy were she and her husband, Dr. Linacre, and Henry's closest confidantes and friends, Anthony Knivert and the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon. In Charles' case, he was family, being married to Henry's sister Mary. Oh if only Katharine could confide in Mary! But most of all, she desired to share her news with Lady Willoughby, once known as Maria de Salinas.

Maria was the Queen's oldest and dearest friend. They were friends in their beloved Spain, Maria coming on the boat with her to England as one of her maids-of-honor when she was to wed Prince Arthur. She stayed with her throughout the short-lived marriage and beyond, through the years of poverty and despair after Arthur's death. Maria was someone she leaned on during the years when she did not know if she would be able to marry Henry after all or if King Henry VII would put a stop to it. Upon the death of the King and Henry taking over, he married her and Maria was there. She was there for her coronation and by her side through all the losses of children and the joy of Princess Mary's birth. She even named her daughter, Catherine, after the Queen. Maria knew of the King's Great Matter and had been such a source of strength and support for Katharine. She could not imagine getting through everything she had without her loyal friend by her side and now she did not know how she would get through this without her.

It was very unfair, but again, many things in her life were unfair and she could whine about it to herself, feel sorry for herself, or accept what was. She had tried to rise above things yet sometimes it was ever so hard.

Another close friend with whom she would normally wish to confide in but knew she could not was Sir Thomas More. Sir Thomas was a loyal friend, a trusted confidante, a deeply devout soul and one whose intelligence she trusted over most. He had been a good friend to Katharine—and to Henry—through the years but because he would not advocate for a royal annulment or divorce, Henry took issue with him. Not to mention Henry's jealousy of the man and his friendship with her, this was quite preposterous! Katharine had never had any deeper feelings than friendship for Thomas—he was one of her dearest friends and she was grateful for that friendship and he was practically family, but she never lusted after him. Had she been a single woman and he a single man, then perhaps they would look upon each other differently. As it stood, she was still very much in love with her husband, despite everything, and Thomas was happily married to Alice.

Perhaps in the future, as the pregnancy progressed past the first trimester, Katharine would be able to share her joyous news with those who mattered most. For now she had to keep it to herself and only speak of it when she spoke to the Lord, in private.

She tried not to think of it, but she knew that one other person was now (or would soon be) aware of her condition: the "Lady" Anne Boleyn, her husband's mistress (whether they bedded one another or not, this is how the Queen viewed Anne, as a mistress, much like her sister had been. Though Katharine had not held the same contempt for Mary as she does Mary's sister).

She was certain that Anne was boiling with the news of her pregnancy. Anger, jealousy, hurt, "betrayal" were all emotions that Boleyn likely felt. In many ways, she was a petulant child. Why how often had she gloated over the fact that the King wanted her and not the Queen? That the King desired her above all others. That _she_ and not the Queen would bequeath a _male_ heir to the King? She flaunted all of this, not caring to show any respect towards the Queen. If Katharine were a gloating woman, she would throw her condition in Anne's face. But she would not do that. No, she would take the high road, secure in the knowledge that she was with child—the King's child—and that this child would be a legitimate heir.

*&*&*&*&*&*&

Princess Mary was practicing her virginals in her music room when one of her servants told her that she had a guest. She was quite curious as to whom this guest might be. She had not had many visitors recently and was growing lonely. Of course she had Lady Salisbury whom she loved along with her various tutors and attendants. She hoped that whomever it was was not here to bring her bad news from Court. As she last knew, she was to join her beloved mother and father in Court in another week. She was so anxious to see them!

It had been too long since she had last seen her parents. She dearly missed them both. The Princess loved the King and Queen ever so much. Her father the King had always been a large presence in her life—larger than life, almost—he was formidable in his royal role but as her father, he doted on her endlessly. Sometimes he could be intimidating and he could make many trembles before him, but he tried not to be so around her. He called Mary his pearl. This made her feel special. She had heard stories how when she was a mere babe, he would hold her in his arms during meetings with dignitaries and she would sit there quietly and take it all in. The dignitaries noted how quiet she was and her father was said to have called her an "angel" saying she "never cried." It pleased her knowing that even as young as she had been, she had pleased her father.

For as much as she loved her father, she loved and adored her mother even more. There was no other woman quite like the Queen and Mary was terribly happy to have her as her mother. The Queen could be stern but she was also extraordinarily kind and generous. She was also very patient and attentive and extremely loving to her only child, her precious daughter. Mary loved to bask in the warmth of her mother. She always felt safe in her presence. Her mother made sure that she was well-learned in the languages and history and all other subjects which she studied. Mary was also well-learned in dancing and in music. Her mother had insisted that as the future Queen of England, Mary must be well-rounded in school and in the arts.

Bearing all this in mind, Mary was anxious to return to her parents. She did wonder what their relationship was like these days; if it was as strained as it had been the last time she had been amongst them. She fervently hoped not and wished there were something she could do to ease the tension. As she was a child—royal or not—there really was not much she could do. Instead she decided to be perfectly well-behaved for both parents and to impress them with her skills. She had even composed a new song for them.

After releasing a sigh that she had not realized she was holding, Mary got up from her stool and made sure she was presentable before heading out to greet her guest. When she reached the room, she saw her uncle, the Duke of Suffolk, flanked by two of her father's groomsmen. _Oh dear, it must be serious_, the child worried.

Lady Salisbury announced her presence. "The Princess Mary," she said with reverence to which the duke and the groomsmen bowed. The groomsmen remained in their spots while the Duke walked over towards the Princess.

"Princess Mary," he said, taking her hand to kiss it.

"Your Grace," she acknowledged with a nod. "To what do I owe such company?" she wondered, nervous that he was bringing with him terribly bad news.

When the Duke did not answer right away, Mary could not help but blurt out the question, "Is it my mother? Is she ill? Father?"

Shaking his head, Brandon said, "No, Princess Mary. Both the King and Queen are in fine health."

This relieved her greatly. "Forgive me. I have come not with bad tidings but with good. The King asked me to bring you back to Court."

Mary's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought I was to return in a week."

Nodding, Brandon said, "Yes well His Majesty desired your presence sooner. As well as Her Majesty the Queen," he added.

Smiling, she told him, "This pleases me. Oh, but I must gather my things."

With a twinkle in his eye, the Duke said, "Your ladies can do that—or the groomsmen. You are the Princess of Wales, after all."

She was, but she was no delicate flower. She was perfectly capable of getting her things in order; however, to appease her uncle, she turned her attention to one of her girls and asked for her bag to be made.

"We shall be leaving in two hours."

Nodding, Princess Mary turned her attention to Lady Salisbury. "Lady Salisbury, would you please see to it that these gentlemen be brought tea and breads to eat. And please send Master Caldwell to bring food and water to the horses."

"Of course, Your Highness," Lady Salisbury told her with a small curtsy.

"Thank you," Mary said with a smile.

Charles was watching and listening to his niece's behavior with keen interest. It had been some time since he had seen her and she was certainly growing up. Her parents, especially her mother, would be proud of her for taking charge as well as for being so kind, not only to the groomsmen but to the animals. She was perfectly lovely. It was such a shame that she was not a boy because if she were, she would be perfect and then there would be no issue of validity of marriage. Shaking his head, Charles told himself not to think of such things, especially in the presence of the Princess who, although she was growing, was still a child.

Everything was set and they departed in under two hours with Princess Mary who had brought Lady Salisbury along (having already procured permission) as well as a few of her ladies. Some were staying behind to keep Ludlow Castle in order while others returned to their own homes to spend the holidays with their families.

For the first few hours of the trip home, everyone remained quiet. Mary did not wish for silence, so she began to speak. "Your Grace?" she asked, looking over at her uncle who sat across from her.

"Please, Princess Mary, no need for formalities here. Call me Uncle."

This brought a grin to Mary's face. "Uncle, are my parents really well?"

"How do you mean?" he questioned, wondering if he would be able to answer her questions.

"You said they are in good health, of which I am grateful for. But what of their spirits? Have they been fighting a lot?"

"Your Highness," Charles began, unsure of how to explain things to his niece. He was not sure how much she knew of her parents' tenuous marriage.

Smiling slightly, Mary said, "Uncle, there's no need for formalities. You may call me Mary, at least during this ride."

He smiled in return. "Very well, Mary. Your parents. Well your parents…" he hesitated, and she picked up on his reluctance.

"Uncle, I may still be a child, but I am not as young as everyone thinks anymore. I know more than people give me credit for, particularly of our family. I know that my mother and father have not had a happy marriage in a long time."

He nodded, sad that she knew that, but honestly he was not surprised. She was a bright girl, she was bound to pick up on things and who knew what gossip she had been exposed to—probably less at Ludlow than at Court.

"Is my father still seeing that…woman…Anne Boleyn?" She shuddered, not being able to call her "Lady Anne" because there was nothing lady-like about this woman.

"You know of Anne Boleyn?"

Nodding, Mary said she did. "And before her, her sister Mary. And before Mary Bessie Blount who gave my father his bastard son, Henry Fitzroy."

Swallowing, Charles said, "Well yes, I do believe they are still seeing each other; I do not know for sure. Your father does not always confide in us."

Mary was not sure she believed her uncle about that, but she let it go. "And he still is trying to get a divorce…an annulment…from my mother, the Queen?"

When Brandon paled, the Princess looked him firmly in the eyes and said, "Yes, I know of the King's Great Matter. He wants to leave my mother for that harlot Boleyn. Declare his marriage to the Queen null and void because of her marriage to his late brother, my uncle, Prince Arthur. My parents received special dispensation from the Pope in order to marry as my mother's first marriage was not a true one. My parents have been married for a very long time and it has produced no male heirs, which is why he wants a divorce. He feels that Anne will grant him his dearest wish."

Charles Brandon certainly had not expected any of that out of the mouth of the princess. He could not say that she was wrong about any of it, but he had to be very careful how he responded, for if he agreed with her, Henry might consider it as an offense against him and he and his wife Mary would be thrust out of Court again or worse, his head could be on a plate for treason.

Mary understood the Duke's reluctance to agree with her or to contribute much to the conversation, which was very well.

They were quite again for some time, until Mary sighed and wistfully stated, "If only I had been born a boy. None of this would be happening if I were to be the future King of England. Alas, it was not to be, my poor mother."

"Your Highness, if I could be so bold as to say this: your mother and father love you dearly and are very proud of you. They have told me this many times. Please know that is true."

She nodded, knowing that it was the truth. Still… she wanted to say something, about how even though it was highly unlikely, she wished that her parents would be together again and her mother would have another child, the boy her father desperately wanted. She would be happy with her role being reduced to merely the Princess of Wales and not the future Queen of England if a brother would restore her family and bring peace to the Kingdom. Alas, she would not dare say such things.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Katharine and Henry had finished their joint service of Mass and were returning to their respective apartments when they were stopped by one of Henry's groomsmen.

"Your Majesties," he bowed to Henry and then did the same to Katharine.

"What is it?" Henry asked, annoyed. He was uncomfortable in Katharine's presence, especially after attending Church with her.

"The Duke of Suffolk has returned from his trip."

Henry's eyes widened. Of course. He snapped his fingers, signaling that the Duke could be brought in. Katharine looked at him in confusion.

Brandon entered the room and after properly greeting their Majesties, he said, "My Lord and Highness, may I present to you the Princess of Wales, Mary Tudor."

Katharine's eyes grew large; she had not anticipated her daughter's arrival for a few more days. Oh what a blessing this was!

"Mary," she called out to her daughter, who entered shortly thereafter, in her finest gown.

"Your Majesty," she said to her father the King, giving a curtsy. "Your Majesty," she repeated to her mother the Queen, doing the same.

"Princess Mary," Henry said with a genuinely satisfied smile.

"Oh Mary," Katharine said, caring not of formalities. Her daughter had returned; she was home and soon to be in the refuge of her bosom. All other worries disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been a while (again)! I've been super busy at work and with other distractions in my personal life. This chapter has been written in bits and pieces over more than a month. I finally got in gear and decided to finish it. I hope it's up to everyone's liking. Thank you all for the continued support (of this story and of me personally). It means more than you'll know. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 9**

"Mary, my beautiful Mary," Henry greeted warmly as he reached his daughter. She was no longer the small lass he would pick up in his arms and twirl around. She had grown into a beautiful young lady.

"You are even more beautiful than the last time we met. I do declare you're the prettiest princess in all of Christendom," he affirmed, which caused a blush on her pretty face.

Giving a small curtsy, she said, "Thank you, your Majesty."

He gave her a peculiar look. "Majesty? I'll have none of that, Mary. I've always been Papà. Or father."

Smiling at him, she said, "Thank you, Papà."

"Come here," her father instructed, opening his arms and she went into them, engulfed in a large hug. Oh how she had missed this man!

He lovingly placed kisses on each of her cheeks and her forehead. "I've missed you, daughter."

Nodding, Mary told her that she missed him as well. Neither noticed, but Katharine was looking upon the scene in earnest, her eyes misting. There was so much love between Henry and his daughter, how could he ever want to threaten that? How could he ever declare this girl a bastard, one borne of incest? Katharine could never begin to imagine how he would toss their daughter aside for any bastard children with Anne Boleyn. Mary was his true heir. As was the child she carried inside her womb.

For old time's sake, Henry picked up his daughter in his arms and twirled her around, both of them laughing. When he placed her back on the ground, he gave her a tender kiss on her forehead and said, "Your mother has missed you dearly. Go say hello."

"Good day, Mamà," Mary greeted, turning her attention to her beloved mother.

"Oh Mary, Mary, _ven aquí, mi amor_." Mary was soon engulfed in another large hug, this one from her mother who smoothed back her hair and spoke tenderly to her.

"_Mi hija, yo le he perdido más que usted podría imaginarse_."

"_Sé; Le he faltado ambos tanto_," Mary replied in perfect Spanish.

"Papa is right. _Usted es el más hermoso de todo el mundo_. You have been a good girl, have you not?"

The Princess nodded and Katharine smiled and kissed her daughter as Henry looked on. Although he had always felt a deep kinship to his only daughter, he could not deny the strength of the bond between Mary and her mother.

Lady Salisbury appeared along with some of Mary's ladies. She bowed to both King and Queen. "Lady Salisbury," Katharine greeted, kissing her cheek. "It is very good to see you."

"Thank you, your Majesty. It does my heart good to see you and be back at Court."

"How have her lessons been?" Henry asked, interrupting the old friends. Although he liked the Lady and knew she was good for Princess Mary, he was always a bit wary of her, with her Plantagenet pedigree.

"The Princess is a remarkable student. Very intelligent and highly capable. She excels at every subject."

The King and Queen beamed with pride at their daughter's accomplishments, which Salisbury went on about, being sure to mention her keen ear for music.

"Whilst you are here, you may take a respite from your studies," Henry announced, much to the surprise of the others.

"But Henry," began Katharine. "We agreed that Sir—"

He cut her off. "Yes. Well, Mary, how do you feel about Sir Thomas?"

Mary tried to hide her surprise. What did her father mean by that question? "Sir Thomas?" she questioned, which was valid as there were many Thomases in Court.

Charles Brandon who stood behind the royals held back a snicker. There were many Thomases; it was easy for the child to be confused.

"More, Mary. Sir Thomas More. You know him, do you not?"

"Of course," she answered without hesitation, having met Sir Thomas on multiple occasions. "The author of Utopia."

"You are familiar with Utopia?"

Nodding, Mary said, "Yes, Papa. I have read it."

"_¡Dios mío!_" muttered Katharine in surprise. For such a young child—oh, she supposed that this was another example of Mary's maturity.

Mary's brows knit in confusion. Had she said something wrong? "Was it wrong of me to read, Mamà?"

Shaking her head, her mother said, "It was not wrong, child. Your father and I were just surprised—pleasantly, though. That is wonderful. Is it not, 'enry?"'

"Indeed," Henry replied, marveling to himself of his daughter's intelligence.

"It will please Sir Thomas that you have read his book. Your mother has requested his tutelage over you, while you are here. What do you think of that?"

"It would be an honor, Papa."

"Very well," he said, kissing her forehead. "So it shall be. Brandon, you are to send word to Sir Thomas that he is to tutor the Princess, beginning next Monday. Until then, you shall be free of studies, to enjoy the Court."

She smiled and thanked her parents. "Your father has wonderful events planned for you," Katharine told Mary who looked at her father in appreciation. She could hardly believe his generosity. Why it almost felt like yesteryear.

"Are you tired from the trip, my darling?"

Shaking her head, Mary assured her mother that she was fine. "Mary, it was a long ride, you should rest. I will take you to your room, along with your ladies. You will get settled and rest for a bit."

"_Gracias, Mamá_."

"Sweetheart, how would you like to have dinner tonight with the Duke of Suffolk, your uncle and your Aunt Mary?"

"That would please me greatly," she told her father and she meant it. It had been some time since she last had seen her aunt, whom she was named after.

"We look forward to it, Princess," her uncle told her. "And your cousins will be delighted to see you."

Mary's eyes sparkled at the prospect of seeing her cousins again. After telling him that she looked forward to seeing them again, she bid them adieu and left with her mother.

"She's a remarkable child, Henry," Charles told him once the ladies left.

"Indeed she is," agreed Henry. "She's read Utopia."

"I daresay she has been educated as well as any male her age would be."

"Yes, she has had the best; her mother and I have made certain of that."

"You are happy to have her in Court?" he asked, to which his friend nodded.

"She is a breath of fresh air, Charles. I have missed her a great deal. With everything else that is going on, she is a welcome distraction."

"You have made the Queen quite happy as well. I cannot remember the last time she smiled so."

Henry could. It was when she realized that he was telling the truth when he told her that she was with child. It was no surprise that her child (children?) could cause her to smile widely.

"Yes, well, Katharine loves Mary a great deal," Henry said quietly.

"She will love this new child as much," Charles nervously added. Henry narrowed his eyes. He did not want talk of the other child. Talking of it would make it more real and at the moment, it was too difficult for him to anticipate another child with the Queen.

Moving closer to his friend, Henry leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You are to keep your promise that no one else is to know of the Queen's condition."

"Of course, Henry. I will not tell a soul."

Henry guarded him with a certain level of disbelief. For now, he had to trust Brandon and Knivert as well as Anne and Dr. Linacre to keep the secret. "Princess Mary is not to be alerted of her mother's condition either. Understood?"

Reflecting upon the conversation he had with his niece in the carriage ride, Brandon knew how much it would delight her to learn of her mother's pregnancy. However, he could not say anything, as per his promise to the King. "Understood?" prompted the King.

"Understood," he finally replied.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

Dinner, as it turned out, was a lovely event. The family ate in lavish style in the dining hall with minimal servants in place. It was more of a family affair than a formal royal dinner. Still, that did not stop His Majesty from indulging his daughter by having the cooks prepare her favorite foods. For most of the meal, the royal children happily chatted away with each other as their parents talked to each other. Henry and Katharine, for their parts, put on a seemingly united front and did not display any animosity toward the other. Henry even found himself asking his wife's opinion on certain matters for Katharine was well-learned. Charles and Mary were grateful that their brother and sister-in-law were behaving civilly towards each other; in fact they couldn't remember the last time things were so amicable between their majesties. Mary in particular held onto the slim hope that her brother would break free of Mistress Boleyn's spell and return to Katharine as his true wife, for the good of his family (particularly his daughter) and for the good of his kingdom. Of course Mary did not know what her husband did—that the Queen was pregnant, possibly with the sacred son that Henry so desired.

Although Princess Mary had spent the majority of dinner catching up with her cousins, she did participate in conversation with the adults when asked a question and from time to time she glanced furtively at her parents. Was it her imagination or were they actually getting along? There was no bitterness, no hostility. From everything Mary had been told of her parents' fractured marriage, from everything she used to observe in their presence, this was an improvement. Granted, it was likely for the benefit of her that they were on their best behavior, but it gave Mary a sense of peace.

If only it could always be as this, she thought to herself. Her parents getting along, her father regarding her mother the way he used to, her aunt and uncle and cousins surrounding her. Family that is what she missed the most at Ludlow Castle. She did not have such luxury there. The closest to family was her beloved Lady Salisbury and her son, Reginald Pole. Her son visited often, which Mary was grateful for. Yes, he was older than her, but not that much older and they got along well—from education to religion, they both felt similarly on the important subjects. Reginald was easy to converse with; he did not dismiss her thoughts based on her youth and yet he also did not simply defer to her the way most did, given her position (granted, he respected that she was Princess of Wales but he did not treat her delicately). If only he were not a Plantagenet! There had been times in which she indulged in wishing that they could be together one day; however, she knew that it was foolish to wish such things. As it was foolish to wish that her parents would once again have a happy marriage.

"Mary?" little Eleanor asked, looking at her cousin whose attention had turned inward.

"Hmm? Oh, I am sorry sweetheart, what was it you asked?"

Her cousin repeated her questioning and Mary responded in kind, being certain to keep her attention on the child. Mary loved her cousins, loved children in general and had always desired for a sibling.

A bittersweet pang ran though Katharine as she watched her daughter interact with her cousins. Mary was so good with the children; she knew that her daughter would be most pleased to have a sibling and share in her mother's joy, but she was not allowed to share her joy. Even with her child.

The Brandons eventually left for their own home and it was just the King, Queen, and Princess who remained. At that point, they had moved into a sitting room, their servants having served them a tea to go along with a plate of cookies.

"You had a good time with your cousins, mi amor?"

Nodding, Mary told her mother that she had. "And it was lovely seeing Aunt Mary and Uncle Charles. They seem very happy," she commented innocently.

Henry thought they seemed as happy as a woman married to Charles Brandon could be, but he would not speak ill of his best friend in front of his daughter.

"I know your aunt was happy to see her namesake," commented Mary's mother which earned her a smile from her daughter.

"You are to sleep well tonight, Daughter. For tomorrow I have some surprises for you on the 'morrow," her father told her and her eyes lit up at the prospect of (what she hoped would be pleasant) surprises.

"You are very kind, Papà." She smiled at him and he could not help but smile in return. He had missed her dearly.

"Anything for my only daughter."

Katharine quelled the voice of negativity inside her head that said Henry would not do anything for Mary because divorcing Katharine to marry Mistress Boleyn and sire children with her while Mary was inconsequential, would not be for his daughter's sake. It would break her heart if she knew it were so…it will break her heart when she learns of her father's plans.

Standing up, the Queen moved next to her daughter and said, "You ought to go to bed now, dear. I shall walk with you."

"Thank you, Mamà. Good night, Papà."

"Good night, Sweetheart," her father replied, standing up to give her a kiss on the forehead and she surprised him by giving him a hug which he returned.

"Sleep well, Henry," Katharine told her husband with a nod of her head. Because their daughter was in the same room, Henry told her the same with a nod of his head.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

"Mary, I am so happy to have you home," confessed the Queen once Mary's ladies had departed her room and it was just the two of them.

"Oh Mama! I have missed you so much," cried Mary.

"Come here," Katharine told her, opening her arms and Mary did as told, happy to be in her mother's loving arms again.

"Mamá, I was so afraid," Mary began but then decided not to share her fears.

"Of what, child?" asked the Queen as she smoothed back her daughter's hair.

"Nothing; please forgive me; I overstepped."

Shaking her head, her mother told her it was not so. "Tell me, please. It is just the two of us in here."

Taking a deep breath, Mary confided, "I was afraid that Father would not let me back to Court. I was afraid that he did not truly want me back at Court. That he only did so to oblige appearances' sake. That he no longer loved me and would separate the two of us. I could not bear such a thing."

Eyes widening, Katharine felt a sob choke in her throat. "¡Dios mío! Why would you think that?"

Mary extracted herself from her mother's loving arms and stood straight. "I am not as naive as people think I am. I know things."

She elaborated no further on what things she knew, choosing instead to sit on the edge of her bed, folding her hands primly over her lap as she stared at the flickering candles.

Briefly closing her eyes and saying a prayer for the Lord to give her strength, Katharine walked over to the bed and sat next to her daughter, placing a hand on the small of her back.

"_Mija_, I realize that although you are still young, you are not as a child. You are the daughter of a king and queen, granddaughter of kings and queens. You have your own household that you are in charge of as the Princess of Wales. Although I wish that you could remain innocent as you once were when it comes to certain matters, I know that is impossible."

Remaining wordless, Mary simply nodded. It was refreshing to have this honesty, as she feared that her mother would withhold things for her sake.

Summoning courage, Katharine was firm but gentle, "I will not ask you what you know tonight. It is late and you've had a long day. But we will talk about this. Just the two of us. I want you to know that you may always come to your Mama. I love you dearly. And despite what you may fear, your father loves you as well and desired this visit. And know this: I will do whatever it is within my power to make certain that we are not separated."

Releasing a deep breath that she had not realized she was holding, Mary nodded, not being able to express her gratitude with words. Her mother caressed her and she ached to sob in her shoulders but she would not fall apart in front of her. She was Catalina d'Aragon's daughter and she would conduct herself accordingly.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Notes: Well, sorry that it's been nearly three (!) months since I was last able to update. Third and fourth quarters are quite crazy at work and I had other things going on and unfortunately this chapter did not come easily to me. I wrote it in bits and pieces over time, though most of it (finally) came together the past week. I appreciate all of you who stick with the story, despite the unpredictable updates. Thank you for all your kind reviews!_

_This chapter may seem rather "filler" to you, but there are certain things that will affect later story._

_Again, thanks for all the support and if I do not update in-between, have a very happy holiday season!_

_P.S. For those of you wondering, my mom is doing quite well. It's been a year since her diagnosis and so far all reports are good. She has a colonoscopy and CT Scan soon and we are praying for good news; I thank you so much for your thoughts and prayers!_

**Chapter 10**

For the three immediate members of the royal family of England, slumber came easily that night and upon morning, they felt more well-rested and calm than they had in some time. Katharine was delighted to have her darling daughter in her household once again. Oh how she had missed the princess! Mary had grown into even more of a striking young woman in the time since they had last spent together. Not only was she physically beautiful but so was her spirit. She was everything her mother had ever hoped and prayed for and more. Intelligent, kind, caring, generous, her mother could go endlessly about her. Katharine ached to have her by her side, always, but it was not to be. She herself had been very fortunate to grow up by her mother's side. Most royal children, at least in England, did not have that luxury. Most royal mothers were not warm as her own had been and as she tried to be to Mary. Katharine knew that as the Princess of Wales (a title heretofore only bestowed upon male heirs) Mary was expected to run Ludlow Castle. From everything she had heard her daughter was doing a most excellent job, especially for one so young. Ludlow Castle held important significance to Katharine as it was where she grew to know and develop a fondness for her first husband, Prince Arthur. Although there were some happy memories in the very short time of their marriage, there were far more sad memories there. Memories of losing her young husband, memories of being so lonely, aching for her homeland and her mother, memories of having no money to pay her ladies or buy clothes or food. It was such a struggle. Katharine hoped and prayed that her daughter would never face such a struggle, which is one of the reasons she fought against an annulment. Ludlow Castle was a much different environment with Princess Mary at the helm. She was in charge of the Castle and its constituents. Her mother could not be more pleased.

As for her father, Henry was also proud of Mary. He always had been. Despite the fact that he had wished that she had been born a male so that the fragile Tudor legacy would be maintained, he loved his daughter and took satisfaction in her accomplishments. He was pleased by the intelligence she bore, in fact she was more intelligent than many males were, having had the best education and would be further educated by Sir Thomas More whose own children were of great wisdom. Mary also had a keen ear for music—not just playing but writing and singing—and was well-versed in dancing.

Mary, like her mother, was delighted to be at Court, which had always been home to her. Of course whenever she was in her mother's arms, she was home. Seeing her mother again did her constitution well. Unexpectedly, her father was very attentive towards her so she delighted in his presence as well. It was a lovely treat to see her aunt whom she was named after as well as her uncle and cousins for dinner. It actually had felt like a true family dinner as her parents were on their best behavior. She believed it was most likely for her benefit, but regardless she appreciated the efforts made to make her feel at ease. That being the case, she was not under any false expectations about her parents' situation. She was well-versed in her father's attraction to Mistress Boleyn and how the King had suddenly developed a conscience about marrying his brother's widow, thus making her mother's position and that of her own quite tenuous. Despite knowing who her father was and the affairs he had in the past (such as with that Bessie Blount who'd born his bastard son, her half-brother), Mary had recognized the love he held for her mother and a part of her did not want to believe that he had completely buried it. Perhaps with her home, things could improve between them.

After an enjoyable breakfast meal (once again featuring Mary's favorites), the King told his daughter that he had a surprise for her—he was holding a jousting match that afternoon in her honor and he wanted her to wear a new dress that he had custom-made for her, from France. Hiding her disappointment, Mary told him she would be happy to wear her new frock and thanked him for her present before returning to her bedchambers. After excusing her maidens, Mary inspected the dress that was hanging in her wardrobe—the material was expensive and the colors beautiful but it was from France, no doubt upon the advice of Boleyn. Mary did not want to wear a frock of Nan Bullen's choosing, but what choice did she have? If she refused, she would have her father's anger to deal with and her mother's disappointment. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she sighed. This was her first full day at home and her father was holding an event in her honor, the least she could do is wear the dress he had specially made for her.

A gentle rapping at the door broke her from her thoughts. "Yes?" she called out, believing it to be one of her maidens.

"Princess," her favorite lady called out. "Her Majesty the Queen is here to see you."

Eyes widening in surprise, Mary stood up and brushed the skirt of her dress. "Please send her in."

Her mother entered and she started to bow but her mother stopped her. "It is unnecessary when we are in private, my darling Mary. After all, here with the two of us, I am merely your mother."

That was untrue. She was her mother, she was the Queen and she was the most important person in Mary's life, after the Lord. However, she appreciated her mother's generosity and thanked her.

"Mary, I must once again tell you how good it does my heart to see you again, to have you home with us," Katharine began, sitting next to her daughter on bed.

Smiling, Mary said she felt the same. "I am happy to be here with you, Mamá. And with Papá as well."

Nodding, Katharine continued, "Yes, your father is certainly pleased to have you home as well. That is why he is holding a jousting match, for your pleasure."

"I do so enjoy watching him excel in sports. He is quite the athlete."

Her mother nodded although she knew that with the years added, Henry was not in as first-rate shape as he had been in the past. She only prayed that he would not fall off the horse today as he had during one match with Knivert. "Is he playing Uncle Charles?" wondered Mary.

"I do not believe so. I believe the Duke will be in the stands with the others. We shall find out shortly. Have you seen the dress your father had made especially for you?"

Mary nodded and her mother continued. "It is quite beautiful, made of the finest materials."

Under her breath, Mary stated, "But it is of France. _Her_ country."

"Oh Mary," sighed her mother.

"I don't want to wear a dress from _her_ country, a dress _she_ likely chose."

"You are stubborn lass, like your father and like me. I know that you are upset that it is from France, but you shall wear the dress. It would be uncouth of you not to. You are the daughter of the King and Queen of England, the granddaughter of Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain; you will rise above any feelings of discomfort."

Swallowing her pride, Mary nodded. "_Lo siento, Mamá_. I will wear the dress and be grateful."

Kissing her daughter on the cheek, Katharine said, "_Gracias, mi amor_. Now take a short rest and then get ready for the match; I will be waiting for you and we shall arrive together."

This gratified her daughter who thanked her and promised her that she would be on her best behavior to make her parents, especially her mother, proud.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

"My Mary, you look positively beautiful, Sweetheart" the King remarked upon Mary's arrival to the match. Curtsying toward him, she thanked him for the compliment and for the dress.

"Your Majesty," Henry turned to acknowledge the Queen who had arrived with the Princess.

Bowing, she addressed her husband and then took an appraisal of those in the stands. In addition to Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, the Duke of Norfolk was there, side-by-side with his brother-in-law, Thomas Boleyn, amongst other members of the Privy Council. Her treasured sister-in-law Mary was not there, which was a disappointment but not a surprise. Two people who did surprise the Queen with their attendance were her dear friend Sir Thomas More and his excellence, the ambassador to her nephew, Eustace Chapuys. This was a relief to Katharine to have some people she could trust surrounding her. There seemed to be fewer of them lately. And last but not least was Cardinal Wolsey, a man whom Katharine had no liking for. How the son of a butcher became a Cardinal and one of the King's closest confidantes was something that the Queen would never understand. However, she knew that the King's Great Matter was a subject that seemed to be the undoing to that relationship as Wolsey was thus far unable to grant him his divorce.

"Your Majesty," the members of the Privy Council acknowledged and they all bowed before her as well as the Princess. She nodded to them and Mary did the same.

"It is good to see you and in such good spirits," commented Sir Thomas More who was to be seated in the same aisle as the royals.

"As it is to see you, Thomas." Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Mary, you remember Sir Thomas More, do you not?"

Nodding, Mary said she did. "Your Grace," she greeted with a courteous nod.

Shaking his head, Thomas said, "Princess Mary, it is my pleasure." He took her outstretched hand and kissed it. "But please, do not call me Your Grace, you can save that for the Dukes," he told her with a wink, which led to a smile from the child. Yes, she liked this man, a man who clearly cared about her mother. She was looking forward to being tutored by him.

Standing next to Thomas More was an unfamiliar man to Mary, so her mother introduced them. "Mary, I would like you to meet the Ambassador to my nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor, your cousin Charles V of Spain—Eustace Chapuys. Eustace, I would like you to meet my daughter and Henry's, the Princess of Wales, Mary Tudor."

Holding his hand above his heart, Chapuys bowed before the young lady who so clearly meant the world to her mother. He also remembered the positive things that had been said of Mary by Charles who had once been betrothed to the child.

"_Princesa, es un honor conocerlo_. I have heard such wonderful things about you from my predecessor, Ambassador Mendoza, from your mother the Queen and from your cousin Charles."

Mary's eyes lit up at the mention of her cousin. Her cousin whom she had loved as a child and had been devastated when their betrothal had been broken, although she was too young to understand the how and whys of it.

Chapuys kissed her hand much like More had and Mary smiled at him. "Thank you; it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Ambassador."

Mary greeted her Uncle Charles and gave nods to the other members of her father's Privy Council, however she did not speak with them as Katharine did not wish for her to spend much time in their presence, particularly that of Norfolk, Boleyn the elder and his son, George Boleyn. Instead, she followed her mother into the stands where they were to be seated.

"She looks harmless. She's but a child." Thomas Boleyn remarked to his brother-in-law.

Shaking his head, the elder Duke replied, "She is not that young. And she is very harmful to this family."

Boleyn did not quite understand so Norfolk continued. "They say that the King adores his only child—that he always has. And that he is quite affectionate towards her, even now."

Furrowing his brows together, Thomas said, "Although that might be true, do you really expect the King of England to act otherwise? Anne has told me that he wishes to give her _one last_ holiday with him at Court."

"With him and with her mother," Norfolk reminded. "She is still the Queen."

"Not for much longer," George added and his uncle just shook his head.

"If your daughter does not give the King what he requests, just what do you think will happen to her and this family?"

Narrowing his eyes, Thomas said, "Anne will give the King what he desires most of all—a male heir—once they are wed."

"Everyone says Katharine is so pious, you would think she would want to retire to a nunnery," commented the youngest Boleyn.

"Oh you foolish boy," chastised his uncle. "This has nothing to do with piety and everything to do her position and the position of her daughter. If she agrees to an annulment then Mary is a bastard, born out of incest. If she remains married to him, Mary will be the rightful heir."

"Even Bessie Blount's bastard son was placed above Mary," Thomas pointed out. "Bastard or not, if Henry has a male with my daughter that child and his mother will be above Mary and hers."

Conversation ceased when the match was announced. Everyone stood and clapped for their King, hoping that he would once again beat his friend, Anthony Knivert.

Walking to the stands, Henry stopped in front of his daughter. "Mary, may your Papá acquire a good luck kiss?"

With an exuberant smile upon her face, Mary leaned over and kissed her father upon both cheeks. "Good luck Papá." Katharine, Thomas More, Chapuys, and Brandon all smiled at the gesture while Norfolk and both Boleyns scowled to themselves.

"Merci, ma chérie."

In a move that surprised everyone, Henry turned to Katharine and said, "My lady," looking at her expectantly.

Swallowing, Katharine held back her surprise as she unfastened her ribbons and tied them onto Henry's jousting stick which he then raised into the air.

"Let the match begin."

Everyone took their seats, all eyes on the King and his opponent. Princess Mary stared at her mother, eyes wide with happiness. Katharine sat back and released a breath that she did not realize she had been holding. Smiling at her daughter, she placed her hand protectively over her stomach, a move which none was the wiser.

"Did you just see that?" questioned Norfolk with a sneer.

"Yes," the elder Boleyn replied unhappily.

"Why did the King ask for the Queen's favors? Should not he wear only those of his beloved Anne's?"

"Of course."

"That one is trouble," Norfolk added, pointing to Mary.

"We'll handle her," Thomas assured him.

"You'd better because if the King becomes anymore smitten with her daughter he can surely become smitten with her mother."

Thomas and George looked at each other, knowing that Mary Tudor was going to cause them a world of trouble if they did not intercede.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes: Well, what can I say? I have no good "excuses" for not updating sooner. I mean life gets in the way as does writers' block but time mainly got away from me. I am very sorry that it has been so long since I last updated and I understand your frustrations as readers. Likewise, I understand if any of you choose not to continue to follow this as I cannot guarantee when the next chapter will be written. However, for those that continue on with this journey, I thank you. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, you are the best!**

**On another note, can you believe that next Sunday the final season of **_**The Tudors**_** begins? **

Chapter 11

By the conclusion of Mary's first returned week at Court, the royal family fell into a familiar pattern: they ate at least one meal together as a family of three (sometimes with guests), Henry tended to the affairs of the country and Katharine tended to their daughter, giving her much missed nurturing and sharing secrets that had been passed down from her mother to her. Mary also attended mass daily with her mother and a few of their ladies; the princess continually impressed by her mother's devoted faith. She had never met one as pious and she prayed that she was a good example as the Queen's only daughter. There were a few other sporting matches and even a play put on for the princess' benefit, all to her delight.

Things were less strained between the King and Queen than they had been heretofore and this delighted many who held onto hope that Henry would be dissuaded to give up his Great Matter and remain with his true wife, their beloved Queen. However, there were those whom were not pleased by the cooling off of hostility between Katharine and Henry, namely the Boleyns.

Anne's patience was wearing thin. She realized that it had only been a week's time since Mary was at Court, but that did not matter as it felt as a month had passed. She longed to be with Henry freely, to see him, to hold him, to kiss him, show him her passion—to a point. Yet because of that illegitimate child, she could do none of these things. She was told to stay away from Court, even though she was a Lady of the Court. This was not just. All of Henry's devotion was to Katharine's bastard daughter. It did not matter to Anne that Mary was still the Princess in the eyes of the law and the Lord. Mary Tudor was a nuisance. Right now she was a distraction for Henry and Henry needs not any distractions from his plight to dissolve his marriage to that Spanish woman. Instead, the child's presence was uniting her parents and this did not sit well with Anne Boleyn. She had heard the whispers that the King was dining with the Queen every day. The first time, she accepted this as he dined with that…Duke of Suffolk (whom she didn't trust one speck) and his wife, the King's sister. But to continually dine with her was ridiculous.

Then there was the matter of his jousting match. Anne had been going to most of Henry's sporting matches heretofore and was not pleased when she found out (via messenger) that her presence was not requested. As much as she wanted to pout, she wanted to prove that she was supportive of his decisions and therefore did not put up a fuss (publicly, at least). However, just because Mary was there with her mother did not mean that Henry had to put on a show of asking for Katharine's favors. The only ribbons that he should be wearing were Anne's ribbons. Anne did not appreciate that she was made a fool of by Henry's actions and in front of her father and uncle. The Duke of Norfolk was extremely troubled with the situation and had berated her and although her father tried to allay his fears, he too was growing nervous. The Boleyns could not allow anyone to usurp what will be their rightful position in Court—never mind the fact that they are the usurpers and Queen Katharine and Princess Mary were not just "anyone." Why was Anne staying out of Court?

Anne told her father and her uncle that Henry was very insistent that she not meet Mary, not yet at least. She stressed that he promised that as soon as holidays were over, the child would return to Ludlow Castle until he decided what to do with her upon stripping her of her title. Although Anne yearned to be with the King, she must abide by his rules and she must show her devotion to him by being obedient. Neither Norfolk nor Thomas Boleyn was satisfied with this explanation, but they both agreed that for now, Anne would have to keep her distance from Court. Of course that did not mean that she would no longer send him letters and tokens of her affections, indeed she continued to do so. Meanwhile, the two men would keep a watchful eye upon things—namely the Queen and Princess—whenever they were at Court. They were not yet certain if actions needed to be taken against either one, but were preparing if they must.

There was too much fuss being made over this child and even over the unborn child. Shaking her head, Anne still could not comprehend the fact that Henry—_her_ Henry—had…been with that aged woman. How could he have been pleasured by her? It was impossible to think that her passionate king could be fulfilled by the old Spaniard. Likewise, it infuriated Anne to know that he would bed her worst enemy when he had promises of night upon night of passion with _her_ as well as the promise of sons. She would not believe that the child would survive infancy, if it would even survive the pregnancy, what with Katharine's advanced age and poor health. Only one child had survived of the royal marriage and she was a female! Anne knew that after Mary was born, there had been one more pregnancy which resulted in another girl who did not survive. All of this led her to not fret that the queen could possibly give Henry the male heir he so desired.

She did not know how she would endure this pregnancy, just waiting silently. She could not tell either her father or her uncle as they would blame Anne. Neither could she share with her beloved brother George, for George was a Boleyn male after all and his allegiance was to their father and their uncle above all else nor her mother who would go straight to her husband. She even yearned to confide in her sister Mary, but Mary was grieving the loss of her husband, Sir William Carey and had two young children to tend to as well as massive debt to overcome. Anne did not envy her sister's plight and she was grateful that Henry's fancy of Mary had not lasted long—no, he had chosen the right Boleyn woman to love. For now, she would remain silent, but she made no promises to herself.

* * *

"Katharine," Henry greeted as he entered a sitting room where the Queen was seated, her arm around her waist. It was unnoticeable that she was carrying another child inside her, but the small move was noticed by the King. He had not inquired as to how she was feeling or how the pregnancy was progressing. One might say that he was ignoring the situation. That was not entirely untrue. By not acknowledging her condition, it was not real. She was at least two months' along, so there would be another seven months, if it progressed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the Queen's soft voice calling him. "Hello 'enry. I trust that this day finds his majesty in good health and spirits?"

Although his health was fine, his spirits were not. "My health and my spirits are well. And yours, Madam?"

"They are well, My Lord." Katharine folded her hands over her lap and once again, things were tense between them, neither knowing how to fill the awkward silence.

Finally, Henry spoke. "Do you know why our daughter summoned us here?"

"I do not. Only that it was of utmost importance that we both are here. I cannot imagine what is wrong."

"Perhaps it has to do with her lessons with More," Henry offered and Katharine raised a brow in surprise for she could not imagine Mary having any troubles under Sir Thomas More's tutelage. She also could not imagine why her husband would suggest otherwise.

There was a knock on the door and then Lady Salisbury entered, bowing to her majesties.

"Your Majesties, may I present to you your daughter, Princess Mary."

Mary entered the room with two of Henry's personal staff members flanking her side.

"Good afternoon, Mother and Father," Mary greeted with a curtsy.

"Good afternoon, Sweetheart, what is this?" her mother asked in curiosity.

"It is a surprise. I have written a song for you, for both of you," she added with a glance toward her surprised father whose eyes grew wide.

Mary walked over to the virginals that her father had newly purchased for her and sat down. "If it pleases my parents, I wish to perform the song."

Nodding, Henry told his daughter that she may proceed and then he sat there entranced as Mary sat demurely at the virginals, playing and singing a song that she had composed, entitled "An Ode to the King and Queen, My Parents." It was a truly beautiful song and her voice had grown strong since last they heard her sing and her playing was captivating.

When she finished, she looked up and took a curtsy. "That is all. Thank you," she told Henry's staffers who exited.

Neither Katharine nor Henry said anything at first and Mary was on edge, worrying that she displeased them, which would surely break her heart as she had worked very hard on this, practicing for weeks back at Ludlow Castle and then practicing in secret since she had been at Court. Mary glanced at Lady Salisbury who merely nodded at her.

No longer being able to bear the silence, she swallowed before bursting, "I hope the song and my performance were not displeasing to your majesties."

"Dear Child, do not be upset," Katharine began, tears forming in her eyes. The tears only caused further worry to her daughter who ran over to her mother and said, "Oh Mama, I did not mean to make you sad, please do not cry." She knew that such behavior was not ladylike, befitting of a princess, but she did not care.

"Shhh," Katharine soothed, brushing a tendril over her daughter's forehead. "I am not saddened, these tears are of happiness, my love. I am so pleased by your performance, you did us proud. Your voice is beautiful and you have such a talent at the…it was lovely," she assured Mary, standing up to embrace her daughter.

"_Gracias __Mamà_, I am grateful to have pleased you." She composed herself and stood up tall and straight, looking at her father.

Standing up, Henry walked over to his daughter and cupped her face. "Oh Mary, that was simply delightful. Your mother is right, we are very proud of you and overjoyed that you shared your talent with us. Do not fret," he added, kissing her gently on the cheek.

"Oh Papà!" Mary cried, overwhelmed with happiness. She leaned into her father who embraced her while Katharine looked on.

Katharine gave a glance towards Lady Salisbury who spoke up. "Princess Mary, we must go now for you need to ready yourself for your lessons with Sir Thomas More."

"Yes, of course. I shall leave then."

"Mary, we shall see you at supper," Katharine told her with a smile which was returned. Mary and Salisbury gave their salutations and then exited the room.

When they were gone, Henry turned his focus on his wife who was hastily wiping away tears from her eyes. Sighing, he said, "I thought you were not saddened, why are you crying woman?"

"Because I love our daughter ever so and what she did today touched me."

Henry could not deny that he thought the same. It was extraordinary that their child was so talented.

"And at the same time," she added, "it saddens me because I cannot fathom how you could turn your back on her."

Henry's expression darkened. "Do not start with me, Katharine."

His wife, however, was stubborn. It was a quality which could both endear and infuriate him.

Ignoring his remark, she continued. "That child, that dear sweet one loves you, she adores you and the song that she composed said as much. She is your child, born to us in holy, legal matrimony, how can you say that she was borne out of incest and is a bastard? You will break her heart as you have surely broken mine. But I am older than she, I can handle heartbreak, I have done so before."

"When you lost your first husband, my brother Prince Arthur? The same one you have repeatedly told me was never truly your husband in every way that counts?"

"I did not lay beside him in our marital bed."

Rolling his eyes, Henry scoffed. "Yes, I have heard that many times how you never lie with my brother, how you were so innocent when we were united."

"It is true and you know so. Just as you know that Mary, and this unborn child are your true heirs, not some bastard you would have with Boleyn."

"Get out!" he demanded at her in fury. She did not cower but instead gracefully departed.

"Boy!" Henry yelled at a page he spotted from the corner of his eyes. "Fetch me some ale."

The boy hastily did as he pleased and Henry downed one drink after another.


End file.
